i 


I 


LIBRARY 


\y 


MEMOIRS 

O  F 

EMINENTLY    PIOUS 

W  O  M  E  N, 


WHO  WERE  ORNAMENTS  TO  THEIR  SEX— BLESSINGS  T# 

THEIR  FAMILIES— AND  EDIFYING    EXAMPLES 

TO  THE  CHORCH  AND  WOPvLD. 


Dtt./  OFdBONSi .  L0Npd.5f, ; 


I* 


By  DANIEL  DANA,    A.  M, 


N  E  W  B  U  R  Y  P  O  R  T : 

Printed  for  the  Subscribers  by  Angier  Marcil 


Publ&hpd  according  t*^  Acs  of  Congress. 


PREFACE 

TO  THE  ABRroGMENT. 


1  HE  ufefiilmfs  of  BlograpJrj  is  equally 
$bvious  and  acknowledged,  Nofpccies  ofwrhlng 
feems  fo  happllj  calculated  at  once  to  iiforni  the 
mind^  to  improve  the  tafie,  and  to  meliorate  the 
heart.  By  exhibiting  goodnefs  in  an  alluring,  but 
practicable  form ;  by  prefenting  excellence  actual- 
ly attained^  with  the  various  means  andfleps  of  its 
acquifttion;  it  furnishes  us  with  fomeofthe  befl 
pofjible  excitements  to  be  y>'hat  we  onshi  to  be. 

In  one  point  of  view,  the  delineation  of  eminent 
Chriflian  chara&ers  appears  peculiarly  interefl- 
ing.  It  a  for  as  a  ft  r  iking  evidence,  at  once  of  the 
divinity  of  the  Scriptures,  and  the  tranfcendent 
excellence  of  the  religion  which  they  inculcate. 
The  be  ft  vindication  of  this  religion  refults  from 
a  difplay  of  its  nature  and  genuine  e feels.  It  needs 
hut  to  be  heard  in  its  own  defence,  or  rather  to  be 
fcen ;  and  its  oppofers  are  either  confounded  or 
gained. 

18/4.41 


IV 


PREFACE 


IVith  great  pmpriety  U  has  been  remarked:^ 
that  ''  thofc  lives  whkJs.  dcj'crvt  mojl  to  be  had  in 
"  remembrance^  are  niofl  eajllj  recorded^  and  con- 
"'  f'f*  (^ff^'^^fl  ariicles.""  The  memorials  of  excel- 
hnt  and  exemplary  women  are  therefore  pecui- 

r!y  worthy  of  attention^  for  the  very  reafons  for 
%hich  titey  are  fometimes  undervalued.  Though 
generally  uniform  in  their  tenor ^  barren  of  inci- 
dent^andojcourfe^  little  calculated  to  gratify  tners 
cnriofity^  yet  thefe  are  the  lives  which  a^'ord  the 
mojl  folid  end  valuable  inffrucfion :  inflruFflon 
which  comes  home  so  the  bojoms  ofalU  and  which 
pecuT:  •  '  ^7'ejres  us  amid  our  humbler  occupa- 
tions^..  :  retired  fenes,     h  is  here  that  th^ 

ore  at  in  a fs  ofmanlHnd  are  found;  and  here  the 

:>'  wlw  are  defiinedto  more  fplendid parts  in  the. 

fima  ^jfUfcj  mujl  have  their  preparations  form* 
■  '.  :::d  their  characters  ftamped, 

X  .2  importance  ofwr.nen  in  every  civilized foci'% 
eiy^  their  afcendanceover  theotlierfex,  andinflu^ 
-:e  in  forming  its  characler^  are  generally  con- 
..but can  fcarce  be  adequately  appreciated^, 
ij  uiii  influence  extended  only  to  the  periods  ofin- 
ra:icy  and  childhood^  it  would  be  a  mod  momentous 

^air;  efpedally  taken  in  ccnmxion  with  the  pe- 

.liar  opportutiitiesfir  its  exertion.    But  it  cpcr* 

ates 


PREPACK.  V 

ates  with  even  an  Increafedforce^  in  thefucceeding 
pages ;  andceafes  not^  but  with  life.  If  in  man^ 
this  flifceptibill^y  be  a  weaknejl^  it  is  a  weaknefs 
to  which  the  mofl  noble  and  virtuous  minds  are  mo[l 
[abject.  It  IS  of  incalculable  importance  that  thofs 
y>'ho  thus  give  the  tone  of  fentiments  and  manners 
to  their  fpecies^  should  be  themfelves  correct.  Nor 
can  a  greater  fervice  be  done.tofociety^than  to  pre- 
fent  them  with  models  by  which  their  own  charac- 
ters may  withfafety  and  advantage  be  formed. 

The  Memoirs  of  emincnrb/  pious  Women,  by 
Dr.  Gwuio^^^  furnish  much  valuable  in  ft;  ruction  of 
this  kind.  The  characters  exhibited  are  many  of 
them  of  the  fir fl  order.  Nor  is  it  an  unimportant 
cir  cum  fiance  to  find  eminent  piety  recommended-, 
info  many  inflames,,  by  the  embellishments  ofgen* 
ius^  learning  and  rank,  Tet  certain  obvious  infe- 
licities attached  to  thework^feem  much  calculated 
to  obftrucl  its  circulation  and  u fcf nine fs.  To  rem* 
edy  thefe  infelicities^  has  been  the  aim  of  the  editor 
of  the  pre  fent  volume.  He  has  connected  the  nar- 
rative^ comprejjcdiheflyle^  and^  without  omitting 
what  feemed  important,,  curtailed  a  variety  of  re- 
dundant anduniriterefting  matter.  In  a  few  in- 
fiances^  diflinct  and  independent  accounts  of  the 
fame  life  have  been  incorporated;  a  change  equal- 

h 


VL  F    R    E    F    A    C    E. 

ly  conducive  to  conc'ifenefs  andperfpicuity.  In  otfi- 
ers^  where  the  materials  for  profit  ahk.hiflory  were- 
obvioiifly  fcanty^  it  was  deemed  hefl  to  prefent^ 
without  ornament  or  circumlocution^  the  few  traits 
which  could  he  collected.  Such  are  the  principal 
means  by  which  he  has  endeavored  to  transfufe  in* 
to  a  moderate  duodecimo  volume^  the  effence  of  two 
copious  octavos,  Thejiiccefs  of  the  attempt  is  fuh' 
mittedto  thedecifion  of  the  intelligent  reader^  who- 
way  have  opportunity  to  compare  it  with  the  origin 
nal  compilation. 

Whatever  imperfections  may  attend  the  work,, 
either  in  its  primary  orprefentjorm^yet  its  obvious 
tendency  to  promote  experimental  and  practical 
religion^  andfubferve  the  higheft  inter  efls  of  man- 
kind^ will  conciliate^  It  is  hoped,^  the  candid  atten- 
tion of  the  ferious  and  benevolent.  To  their  patron- 
age^  and  to  the  bleljing  of  God^  it  is  humbly  com- 
mended, D.  D, 

Newbdryport,  0(fl.  29, 1802, 


CONTENTS. 


J.-/ADY  Jane  Grey^ 

9 

Queen  Catharine  Parr, 

^7 

Jane,  Queen  of  Navarre, 

38 

Mary,  Queen  of  Great-Britain, 

45 

Lady  Mary  Vere,        -            .            .            - 

72, 

Counters  of  Suffollv', 

79 

Lady  Mary  Armyne, 

87 

Lady  Elizabeth  Langham, 

92 

Counters  of  Warwick, 

103 

Lady  Elizabeth  Brooke, 

133 

Mifs  Margaret  Andrews, 

165 

Lady  Alice  Lucy, 

174 

Lady  Margaret  Houghton, 

179 

Mifs  Ann  Baynard,           -            -            . 

184 

Lady  Frances  Hobart, 

189 

Lady  Catharine  Courten, 

198 

Lady  Cutts,          -           .            -            - 

205 

Mrs.  Anne  Askewe,            -           _           . 

213 

Lady  Elizabeth  Haftings, 

220 

Mrs.  Jane  RatclifFe, 

23s 

Mrs.  Catharine  Bretterg, 

245 

Lady  Rachel  Ruflell, 

254 

Mrs.  Elizabeth  Burnet, 

274 

Mrs.  Elizabeth  Bury,        -        _        •          . 

£90 

Mrs.  Elizabeth  Rowe,       -       ,       .       . 

355 

LADY    JANE    GREY: 

CTHERWISEy 

LADY    JANE    DUDLEY. 


OHE  wn5  born,  as  is  fiipporecl,  about  the 
beglnningof  the  year  1536.  Ker  parents  were  Henry- 
Grey,  Marquis  of  Dorfet,  and  Lady  Frances  Bran- 
don, grand-daughter  to  King  Henry  the  Seventh. 

Her  perfon  had  in  it  fomet'nir.g  fingularly  elegant 
and  attra6live.  But  in  her,  the  advantages  both  of 
birth  and  beauty  were  early  edipfed  by  uncommon 
powers  of  genius  and  acquifitions  of  learning  ;  and 
by  the  dill  more  valuable  endowments  of  gentlenefs, 
humility  and  piety. 

The  fupcrioriry  of  her  mind  was  fird  announced- 
by  her  excellence  in  the  accompli (hments  ufual  to  her 
fcK  and  rank.  Her  facility  and  elegance  in  the  per- 
formances of  the  needle  and  pen,  her  fl<ill  in  mulic, 
vocal  and  infl;rumental,  the  gracefulnefs  of  her  de- 
portment, and  the  charms  of  her  converfation,  were 
all  extraordinary.  But  Ibe  fo  n  afpired  to  acquifi- 
tions of  greater  folidity  and  importance. 

Under  the  inllru6lion  of  two  cliaplains  of  her 
father,  both  eminent  in  literature,  (he  not  only  attain- 
ed fuch  a  knowledge  of  her  own  language,  as  enabled 
)icr  to  fpeak  and  write  it  with  peculiar  accuracy,  but 
ftudicd  the  French,  the  Italian,  the  Latin  and  Greek 
tongues  fo  thorcughly  as  to  render  them  nearly  as 
B  fanrihar 


10  Memoirs  of 

familiar  as  her  own.  On  the  authority  of  fome  of 
the  mod  learned  men  of  that  period,  it  may  be  alfert- 
ed,  that  flie  wrote  each  of  thefe  languages  with  great 
facility.  Strange  as  it  may  feem,  fhe  was  likewife 
verfed  in  the  Hebrew,  Chaldaic  and  Arabic  ;  and 
this,  before  fhe  had  well  palRd  the  years  of  child- 
hood. She  poffefTed  ati  extent  of  capacity  and  quick- 
Tiefs  of  apprehenfion,  which,  jomed  to  an  uncx)mmon 
patience  of  application,  gave  her  the  command  not 
only  of  languages,  but  of  other  fciences,  to  fuch  a 
<iegree  as  was  furprlfing  to  perfons  of  the  beft  judg- 
ment and  talents.'  Yet  was  Hhe  nowlfe  elated  by  thefe 
endowments,  fo  extraordinary  in  one  of  her  fex  and 
sore,  and  fo  irrefiftibly  attra6ling  unlverfal  admiration  ; 
but  was  rather  remarkably  modeft  and  humble  in  her 
v^-hole  demeanor. 

One  circumftance  in  her  education  is  worthy  of 
particular  notice.  With  all  her  amiable  and  dutiful 
•iifpofitions,  fhe  was  treated  by  her  parents  w!;h  fin- 
:^ular  f^ernnefs  and  feverity.  This  affiidion,  wound- 
ing and  almofl:  infupportable  to  a  mind  like  hers,  was 
not  without  important  heneht.  While  it  was  pro- 
bably one  of  the  chief  means  of  exciting  her  youth- 
ful mind  to  religion,  it  greatly  increafed  her  love  to 
literature,  of  which  fhe  was  naturally  fo  fond  :  ef- 
pecially  as  fhe  found  in  the  gentlenefs  of  her  beloved 
tutor  Aylmer,  a  perfea  coatraft  to  the  harfhnefs 
zmd  auifcrity  of  her  parents.  Mortified  and  con- 
founded by  /heir  tjnmerited  chldings,  fhe  returned 
with  double  pleafure  to  the  lefibns  of  her  learned  pre- 
ceptor, and  fought  in  ftudy  that  delight  which  was 
denied  her  in  all  other  fcenes  of  life,  in  which  fhe 
was  little  converfant,  and  feldom  indeed,  with  any 
fatisfa6lion.  *■'  One  of  the  greatefl  benefits^  that  ever 
God  gave  me,"  fhe  once  faid  to  a  friend,  ''is  that  he 
fent  me  to  Iharp    and  fevere  parents,  and  fo  gentle  a 

fchoolmafler." 

Her 


Lady  Jane  Grey.  ir 

Uer  alliance  with  the  crown,  and  the  great  favor 
m  which  the  Marquis  of  Dorfet  ftood  with  Edward 
the  Sixth,  necelTarily  brought  her  fometimes  to  court, 
where  ihe  received  particular  marks  of  efteem  from 
the  young  king,  who  took  great  pleafure  in  her  con- 
verfation.  But  flie  fpent  moft  of  her  time  at  her 
father's  feat  at  Broadgate  in  Leicefterfliire. 

In  Oclober  155 1>  her  father  was  created   Duke  of 
Suffolk,  and  at  the  fame  liine,  Dudley,  Earl  of  War- 
wick, was  created  Duke  of  Northumberland.     Not 
long  after,  thefe  noblemen    attained   the  pinnacle    of 
power.     Perceiving   the    king's   health  decline,  and 
Gonfcious  that  his  death   mud  precipitate   them  from 
their   elevation,    they    began    to    deliberate  on  fome 
method  by   which  this  dreaded  reverfe  might  be  pre- 
vented.    Their  deliberations  terminated  in  a  Icheme 
to  effecl  a  change  in  the  fuccedion  to  the  crown,  and 
transfer  it  to  their  own  families.     The  Lady  Jane  was 
deftined  to  the  principal  part  in  this  intended  revolu- 
tion.     In  reality,  the  whole  of  it  centered  in  her. — • 
Thofe   excellent    and    amiable    qualities    which    had 
rendered  her  dear  to  all  who  knew  her,   fubjecled  her 
to  becom.e  the  chief  inllrument  of  an  ambition  notori- 
onfly  not  her  own.-     With   this  object   In  view,  fuz; 
was  married  to  Lord  Guilford  Dudley,  fourth  fon  ot 
the  Duke  of  Northumberland,  without  any  difcovery, 
or  even    intimation  to   herfelf,   of  the  real   deflgn  of 
the  match,  which  was    celebrated  with   great   pomp> 
the  latter  end  of  May,  1553,    fo  much    to  the   king's 
fatisfaClion,  that  he  largely  contributed  to  its  expcnfcs 
from  the  royal  wardrobe. 

But  the  magnificence  and  fplcndor  attending  their 
nuptials  was  the  laft  gleam  of  joy  which  fhone  in  the 
palace  of  king  Edward  who,  a  few  days  afterward, 
grew  fo  weak,  that  the  Duke  of  Northumberlard 
thought  it  time  to  carry  his  proje<fl  into  execution. — 
Accordingly,  in  the  beginning  of  June,  he  communi- 
cated the  matter  to  the  young  monarch ,  and  having 

fin! 


T2  Memoirs  of 

firfl  fiiggef^ed  the  moft  plaufible  objefllons  which  the 
cafe  would  admit  againll:  his  Majefty's  two  fibers, 
Mary  and  Elizabeth,  he  obferved  that  the  Lady  Jane, 
•who  was  of  the  royal  line,  was  a  perfon  of  extraor- 
dinary qualities  ;  that  her  zeal  for  the  Reformation 
VvMS  unquefcioned  (an  argument  which  he  knew  would 
have  great  weight  with  the  king;)  that  nothing  could 
be  more  acceptable  to  the  nation  than  the  profpecl  x>f 
fuch  a  princefs  ;  and  that  in  this  cafe,  he  was  bound 
to  fet  aiide  all  partialities  of  blood  and  relation fhip, 
v/hich  were  inferior  confiderations,  and  to  be  over- 
ruled hy  the  public  good.  To  add  force  to  his  per- 
fuafions,  and  fecure  fuccefs  to  his  propofal,  care  was 
taken  to  place  about  the  king  thole  who  fhould  em- 
Ijrace  every  favorable  occafion,  to  purfue  the  fubjecl,, 
^^lpa]  enlarge  on  the  accompiifhments  of  Lady  Jane. 
The  plan  fucceeded  :  and  tue  king,  in  the  refult,  con- 
fented  to  a  difpofition  of  the  crown  which  overlooked 
PiOt  only  his  father's  will,  but  the  exprefs  provifions 
of  the  Englifn  Conftitution.  Agreeably,  a  deed  of 
fettieraent,  being  drawn  up  in  form  by  the  judges, 
v/as  figned  by  his  Majefty,  and  all  the  Lords  of  the 
Council'. 

The  matter  being  thun  far  accomplifhed,  and  the 
letters  patent  having  palb-d  the  feals  before  the  clofe 
of  the  month,  the  next  object  was  to  adopt  the  moft 
effectual  method  for  carrying  the  new  arrangement 
into  execution,  and,  until  this  was  done,  to  keep  it  as 
fecret  as  polfible.  In  purfuance  of  this  dcfign,  the 
Duke  of  Northumberland  directed  letters  to  Lady 
Alary,  in  her  brother's  name,  requiring  her  attend- 
ance at  Greenwich,  where  the  court  then  was.  The 
princefs,  in  obedience  to  the  fummons,  had  arrived 
ivithin  half  a  day's  joarney  of  the  palace,  when  king 
Edward  expired.  This  events  which  took  place 
July  6,  1553,  was  feafonably  made  known  to  her, 
^nd  (he  availed  herfelf  of  the  opportunity  to  efcape 
the  fnare  which  had  been  thus  artfully  laid. 

The, 


Lady  Jane  Gre?.  13^ 

The  Dukes  of  Suffolk  and  Northumberland  found 
it  necelTary  to   conceal    the   king's    death,    that  they 
might  have    time  to  gain   the   city  of  London,   and 
fecure   the    confent  of    Lady  Jane,   who  was   as  yet 
wholly  unacquainted  with  the  lieps  which  had    been 
taken  to  procure  her  the    crown.      At  this  jundlure, 
the  princefs  Mary  fent  a  letter  to  the  privy  Council, 
in  which    without    exprefsly    alTuming   the  title    of 
queen,   (he  clearly  affirted   her  right    to  the  throne  ; 
taking   notice   likewife   of  the    concealment    of  her 
brother's  death,  and  of  their  tranfa^S^ions  fince  ;  inti- 
mating that  there  was  flill  room  for  reconciliation  ;and 
that  if  they   now  complied  with    their    duty   in  pro- 
claiming her  queen,  the  paO:  fhould  be  not  only  par- 
doned but  forgotten.      In  anfwer  to  her   letter,  they 
inuiled  on  the   indubitable   right  of  Lady  Jane,  and 
their  own  unalterable    fidelity  to  her  as   their  queen, 
to  whom  they  endeavored  to  perfuade  her  to  lubmit. 
Thefc  previous  fteps  being  taken,    and  the  Tower 
and    city    of  London    fecured,    the    Council  quitted 
Greenwich,  and  came  to  London.     Soon  after,  the 
tv/o  Dukes  repaired  to  Durham-houfe,    where  Lady 
Jane  refided  with  her  hufband,  as  part  of  Northum- 
berland's family.     There  the  Duke  of  Suffolk  open- 
ed to  his  daughter,  with  much  folemnity,  the  difpoll- 
tiDU  which  the  late   king   had  made  of  his  crown  by 
letters  patent,  the  clear  fen fe  the  privy  Council  had 
of  her    right,  and  the  coufent  of  tlie  magiflrates  and 
citizens    of  London.      In    conclufion,    himfelf   (her 
fatlier)  and  Northumberland  fell  on  their  knees,  and 
paid  her  homage,    as  queen  of  England.     The  poor 
lady,  much  a(h)nirhed  at  their  difc^jurfc,    but    nowife 
perfuaded  by  their  arguments,  nor  elevated  by  fuch  un- 
expected honors,  returred  an  anfwer  to  this  cffc6t  : 
**  That  as  the  lav/s  of  the  kingdom,  and  natural  right 
were    in    favor   of  the    king's    fiflers,   flie  would  be- 
ware of  burdening  her  weak  confcience  with  a  yoke 
which  belonged  to  them  j  thai  te  well  knew  the  i:\- 
b  2,  famv 


1^  IMemoirs  of 

faray  of  tb.ofe  who  had  violated  right  to  gain  a  fccp- 
tre;  that  It  was  a  mockery  of  God  and  juftice,  to 
fcruple  at  the  (lealing  of  a  fhilling,  and  not  at  the 
ufurpatlon  of  a  crown.  <*  Eefides/'  faid  flie,  **  I 
am  not  fo  young,  nor  fo  little  read  in  the  guiles  of 
fortune,  as  to  fufFer  rnyfelf  to  be  taken  by  them.  If 
fhe  enrich  any,  it  is  but  to  make  them  the  fubjeft  of 
lier  fpoil.  If  fhe  raife  others,  it  is  but  to  pleafure 
herfelf  with  their  ruin.  What  (he  adored  yeil:erday. 
Is  to-day  her  fport  :  aad  if  now  i  permit  her  toadorii 
and  crown  me,  to-morrow  I  mufl  fufFer  her  to  crufh 
2nd  tear  me  to  pieces.  Nay,  with  what  crown  does 
ihe  prefent  me  ?  A  crown  which  has  been  vio- 
lently and  fhamefuUy  wrefted  from  Catharine  of  Ar- 
jagon  ;  made  more  unfortunate  by  the  punidimentof 
Anne  Boleyn,  and  others  that  wore  it  after  her.  Why 
then  would  you  have  me  add  my  blood  to  theirs,  cTid 
be  the  third  viftim  from  whom  this  fatal  crown  m.ay 
be  ravifhed,  with  the  head  that  wears  it  ?  But  admit 
that  it  fhould  not  prove  fatal  to  me,  and  that  all  its 
venorh  were  confumed  ;  if  fortune  (liould  give  me 
warranties  of  her  conftancy  ;  would  it  be  wife  to 
take  upon  me  thofe  thorns  which  would  dllacerate, 
though  not  kill  me  outright  ? — to  burden  myfelf  with 
a  yoke  v/hich  would  not  fail  to  torment  me,  though 
I  were  allured  not  to  be  ftrangled  with  it  ?  My  liber- 
ty is  better  than  the  chain  you  proffer  me,  though 
framed  of  gold,  and  adorned  with  precious  flones. 
X  will  not  exchange  my  peace  for  honorahle  and  pre- 
i'ious  jealouftesy  for  magnificent  and  glorious  fetter'^. 
And  if- you  love  me  fmcerely,  and  in  good  earneft, 
you  will  rather  wi(h  me  a  fecure  and  quiet  condition, 
though  mean,  than  an  exalted  fituation,  cx'pofed  to 
the  wind,  and  followed  by  fome  difmal  fall." 

This  fpeech,  fo  remarkable  for  its  humihty,  judg- 
ment and  eloquence,  had  no  effedl  :  and  the  good  lady 
was  at  length  prevailed  on  by  the  exhortations  of  her 
father,  the  interceilions  of  her  mother,  the  artful  per- 

fua.Qons 


Lady  Jane  Grey.  t^ 

fnaiions  of  tlie  Duke  of  Northumberland,  anJ,  above 
all,  by  the  earneit  deiires  of  her  hufband,  whom  fbc 
tenderly  loved,  to  yield  her  allent  to  vi^hat  had  been 
done  already,  and  what  was  in  immediate  contempla- 
tion.* Thus,  with  a  reludant  and  heavy  heart,  fne 
fuffered  herfelf  to  be  conveyed  to  the  Tower,  where 
Ihe  entered  in  the  ftate  of  a  queen,  attended  by  the  prin- 
cipal  nobility,  and  (what  was  very  extraordinary)  her 
train  fupported  by  the  Dutchefs  of  Suffolk,  her 
mother,  in  whom,  if  in  any  of  this  line,  the  right  of 
fucceflion  lay.  The  fame  day,  Vnc  was  proclaimed 
queen,  with  the  ufual  folemnities,  after  which  ih.e 
proceeded  to  exercife  fome  a<£ls  of  fovereignty.  But 
fliort  indeed  was  the  date  of  her  royalty,  a  term  of 
nine  days  only  ;  at  the  clofe  of  which  commenced  the 
teign  of  queen  Mary,  announced  by  a  proclamation 
in  London. 

As  foon  as  the  event  was  known  to  the  Duke  of 
Suffolk,  who  now  refided  with  his  daughter,  in  the 
tower,  he  repaired  to  her  apartments,  and  in  the  foft- 
eil  terms  pofiible,  acquainted  her  with  what  had  taken 
place  ;  intimating  the  necefiity  of  her  parting  with 
her  recent  dignity,  and  retiring  to  her  former  ftate. 
This  intelligence  fhe  received  with  a  countenance 
compofed  and  ferene  ;  declaring  that  the  meilage-  was 

lefs 

'*'' They  told  her,''  Jiys  Bijhop  Burmt,  *' that  all 
that  had  been  doney  was  according  to  law,  to  which  all 
the  judges  and  counfellors  had  fet  their  hands." 

**  Lady  faney''  fays  the  writer  of  the  Britifli  Bio- 
graphy, **  was  altogether  iminfuenced  by  any  ambitious 
viewsy  and  the  fcttlement  of  the  fucceffion  was  by  no 
means  agreeable  to  her.  Indeed  it  does  net  appear  that 
fhe  zuas  at  all  confultcd  about  it  either  by  her  father^  or 
by  the  Duke  of  Northumberland  ;  nor  dees  flje  feeni 
even  to  have  been  acquainted  with  it,  till  after  king 
Edward's  deceafe,'\ 


I J  Memoirs  of 

lefs  painful  than  that  of  her  advancement  to  royalty: 
that  from  obedience  to  him  and  to  her  mother,  flie 
had  done  violence  to  herfelf,  and  grievoully  finned  : 
that  ihe  now  obeyed  the  diclates  of  her  inmolf  foul 
in  refigning  the  crown  ;  and  would  gladly  make  every 
poiiible  reparation  for  errors  Co  great  as  iho'c  which 
had  been  committed,  by  an  ingenuous  confellion  and 
relinquifliment  of  them. 

The  clcfe  of  her  reign  was  the  com.mencement 
of  her  fufferings.  Her  palace  was  loon  converted  to 
a  prifon.  This  reverfe,  affli cling  as  it  was,  would 
have  been  lupportable,  could  flie  hav€  borne  it  alone. 
As  llie  was  lovrly  in  the  profpecl  of  a  crown,  fo  the 
lofs  of  it,  and  the  calamities  attending  the  depri- 
vation, fo  far  as  they  were  confined  to  lierfelf,  rob- 
bed her  neither  of  dignity  nor  peace.  But  her  mind, 
equally  generous  and  tender,  was  deeply  wounded  by 
the  extenfive  affliction  in  which  others  were  involved 
by  her  fall.  Many  of  the  molt  refpeclable  perfons 
in  the  kingdom,  feme  among  the  firit  of  the  nobility, 
who  had  fupported  her  claim  to  the  crown,  were  im.- 
prifoned.  Among  thefe  were  her  own  father,  and 
the  father  of  her  hul"band,  with  all  his  family.  Th& 
latter  was  brought  to  the  block. 

On  the  third  of  November,  herhufbanti  and  herfelf 
were  carried  from  the  tower  to  Guildhall,  where  be- 
ing arraigned  and  convicted  of  high  treafon,  they 
both  received  fentence  of  death.  A  mitigation  of 
their  confinement  which  took  place  afterward,  wirh 
fome  other  circumltances  of  indulgence,  induced  a 
feeble  hope  that  thoughts  of  mercy  had  entered  the 
heart  of  queen  Mary.  But  the  contrary  foon  appear- 
ed, and  her  determmation  to  have  the  fentence  execu- 
ted, was  announced.  The  fatal  intelligence  made 
jittle  imprellion  on  the  mind  of  Lady  Jane.  The 
bittemefs  of  death  was  pair  :  fhe  had  long  expected,, 
it,  and  had  endeavored  to  be  prepared  for  the  worfK 

Hither  ta 


Lady  Jane  Grey.  17 

Hitherto,  the  hiftory  of  this  lady  his  furnKhed 
fTOof  of  uncommon  intellectual  excellence,  with  a 
lenfibility,  a  fortitude,  and  a  greatnefs  of  foul,  which 
it  is  impoiTible  not  to  adrnfre.  Bur  the  higher  part 
of  her  chara^er,  her  ardent  piety,  claims  a  more  dif- 
tin6t  illufrration.  This  at  once  adorned  and  fancti- 
fied  her  other  excellent  and  amiable  qualities.  Its 
influence  was  vifible  amid  her  greateil:  profperity  and 
enjoyment.  But  with  peculiar  luftre  did  it  break 
through  the  cloud  of  her  fuH^rings,  and  fhcd  a  glory- 
on  the  evening  of  her  life. 

She  was  early  inftrucled  in  the  principles  of  the 
Reformation,  which  Ihe  ftadied  with  great  feriouf- 
nefs  and  attention,  and  to  which  flie  was  ftrongly  at- 
tached. This  was  a  capital  c ire umfta nee  which  re- 
commended  and  endeared  her  to  king  Edward  :  as 
her  difiike  of  Popery,  early  imbibed  and  avowed,  and 
at  no  fubfequent  period  dilTembled,  is  thought  to 
have  been  one  reafon  of  her  finding  fo  little  favor 
with  queen  Mary.  Her  deep  acquaintance  w^ith  the 
diilint;ui(hingdodrInes  of  the  Reformation,  and  her 
capacity  to  defend  them,  were  evinced  in  a  conver- 
fation  fhe  had  with  Dr.  Feckenham,  who  was  fent  by 
the  queen,  two  or  three  days  before  her  death,  tha't 
he  m.ight  endeavor  to  reconcile  her  to  the  church  of 
Rome.  On  this  trying  occalion,  the  caUmnefs  of  he- 
mind  and  the  force  of  her  reafoning  v/ere  equally  re- 
markable. Dr.  Feckenham,  fmding  his  attempts 
unavailing,  took  his  leave,'  fayin^r,  that  he  was  forry 
for  her  ;  '*  for  I  am  fure,"  he  added,  "  we  tv/o  lliall 
never  meet."  '*  True,"  ihe  replied,  **  we  ihall  nevtr 
meet,  unlefs  God  turn  your  heart  ;  for  I  am  allured, 
tinlefs  you  repent  and  turn  to  God,  you  are  in  an  evil 
cafe  :  and  I  pray  God,  in  the  bowels  of  his  mercy, 
to  fend  you  his  holy  Spirit ;  for  he  hath  eiven  vou  his 
great  gift  of  utterance,  if  it  pleafed  him^alfo  to  opeu 
the  eyes  cf  your  heart." 

The; 


i8  Memoirs  or 

The  fame  concern  (he  manifefted  for  the  recovery" 
of  Mr.  Harding,  one  of  her  former  preceptors.  He 
had  been  a  zealous  protc^^ant,  a  preacher  of  the  re- 
formed religion,  and  very  fervent  in  animating  its 
profeflTors  to  abide  by  it,  in  the  face  of  all  perfecution 
and  danger.  But  on  the  return  of  Popery  in  queen 
Mary's  reign,  he  ren^  unccd  hisprinciples,  and  became 
a  Papill.  To  him  Cnc  wrote  a  letter,  full  of  faithful 
expoftulationand  pungent  reproof  for  his  apoftacyjand 
breathing  an  ardent  defire  for  his  reftoration.  At  the 
clofe,  fhe  expre.Tes  herfelf  to  this  purpofe  :  **  Returns- 
return  again  into  Chrift's  war  ;  and  as  becomes  a  faith- 
ful warrior,  put  on  that  armor  which  Saint  Paul  teaches 
to  be  moilneceirary  for  a  Chriftian.  Above  all,  take 
to  you  the  fhield  of  faith,  and  be  excited  by  ChriiVs 
own  example  to  withftand  the  devil,  to  foVfake  the 
world,  and  to  become  a  true  and  faithful  m.ember  of 
his  myllical  body,  who  fpared  not  his  own  body  for 
our  fins. 

*^  Let  the  fear  of  his  threatened  vengeance  for  the 
heinous  offence  of  apoftacy,  overawe  your  fpirit  :  and 
be  animated,  on  the  other  iiand,  by  the  mercy,  blood 
and  promife  of  hina  who  is  ready  to  return  to  you,  the 
moment  you  return  to  him.  As  with  the  loft  fon  you 
have  wandered,  be  not  afiiamedw'ith  him  to  return 
fro?n  the  riot  of  Grangers,  to  the  dainties  of  your  hea- 
venly Father's  houfe  ;  acknovv'ledging  that  you  have 
fmneJ  againd:  heaven  and  earth.  Agalnft  heaven,  by 
flair.ing  the  glorious  name  of  God,  and  caufing  his 
moft  holy  wordto  be  evil  fpoken  of,  Againft  earth, 
by  becoming  a  ftumbling-block  to  many  of  your  weak 
brethren.  Come  home  again  with  Mary  ;  and  with 
Peter,  bitterly  weep.  Let  ftreams  of  forrow  for  your 
offenfive  fall  iffue  forth  from  your  inm.oft  heart.  With 
the  penitent  publican,  pray,  God  be  merciful  to  me  a 
fmner.  Remember  the  horrible  cafe  of  Julian  :  and 
let  the  fearful  end  of  Spira,  yet  frelh  in  your  memory, 
terge^oa  to  beware  of  his  crime.  ^ 

i*  Fh\9MY:2 


Lady  Jane  Grey.  19 

^'  Finally, let  the  lad  great  clay  be  ever  before  your 
eyes.  Think  of  the  terror  which  will  then  overwhelm 
every  fugitive  from  Chrift— all  who  value  the  world 
more  than  heaven,  and  their  life  more  than  Him  who 
^'[ave  it.  Think  too,  of  the  ineftimable  joys  prepared 
for  thofe  who,  dreading  neither  danger  nor  death, 
f])all  have  glorioufly  encountered  and  vanquiflied  the 
powers  of  darknefs,  hell  and  death,  through  that  al- 
mighty Savior  vvhofe  arms  are  even  now  extended  to 
receive  you  ;  w^ho  is  ready  to  fall  upon  your  neck,  and 
fead  you  with  all  the  bleflings  which  his  precious 
blood  has  bought. — To  whom,  w  ith  the  Father,  and 
the  holy  Ghofl,  be  all  honor,  praife  and  gbry  ever- 
iafting.     Amcn^" 

To  her  Father,  the  unhappy  inftrument  of  her  pre- 
mature death,  (he  wrote,  during  her  imprifonment,  a 
letter,  in  which  (he  exprefied  not  only  her  reconcilia- 
tion to  that  event,  but  her  thankfulncrs  for  it,  as  pre- 
ferable, in  her  view,  to  a  protracted  lite,  with  all  the 
world  at  her  difpofal.  She  intimated  to  him  that  it 
was  her  confolation  to  refledl,  that  though  (he  had  com- 
mitted a  grievous  offence  againft:  the  Qjieen  and  her 
laws,  her  crime  was  in  great  meafure  involuntary  ; 
nor  liad  her  enforced  honor  ever  blended  with  her 
licart.  She  concluded  by  declaring,  that  however 
])ainful  her  approaching  death  might  appear  to  him, 
yet  to  her  nothing  could  be  more  welcome,  than  from 
this  vale  of  mifery  to  afpire  to  a  lieavenly  throne  of 
iov  and  pleafure  with  Chrid  her  Savior — and  prayed, 
that  he  too  might  be  fo  divinely  preferved  in  the  faith 
of  Jefus,  that  they  might  meet  in  heaven  at  \z\\. 

Another  letter  of  this  excellent  lady  is  preferved.  It 
wasfent,  the  night  before  her  dcalh,to  her  fider  Cath- 
arine. It  was  written  at  the  end  of  a  Greek  Tcila- 
ment,  nearly  in  the  follov/ing  words. 
•  *M  have  fent  you,  good  filter  Catharine,  a  book 
which,  though  not  outwardly  decorated  with  gold,  yet 
is  inwardly  of  more   value  than   the    mod   precious 

gems. 


0.O'  Memoirs  of 

fems.  It  is  tlie  book,  dear  fifter,  of  the  law  of  the 
,ord.  It  is  his  tellamentand  latt  will,  which  he  left 
to  us  wretches  ;  which  (hall  lead  you  to  the  path  of 
eternal  joy.  If  with  a  good  mind  you  read  it,  and 
■with  earneftnefs  follow  it,  it  fhall  bring  you  to  an  ev- 
erlafting  life.  It  iliail  teach  you  to  live,  and  help  you 
to  die.  It  fliall  v/in  you  more  than  you  Ihould  have 
j^ained  by  your  unhappy  father's  lands. , For  as  if  God 
had  profpered  him,  you  fhould  have  inherited  his 
lands,  fo  if  you  apply  diligently  to  this  book,  fetking 
to  dire£l  your  life  by  it,  you  fhall  be  an  heir  of  fuch 
liches  as  neither  the  covetous  fhall  withdraw  from 
3'ou,  nor  thief  ileal,  nor  moth  corrupt.  Defire  with 
David,  good  fifter,  to  underftand  the  law  of  the  Lord 
God.  Live  ftill  to  die,  that  by  death  you  may  attain 
eternal  life.  Tiuft  not  that  the  tendernefs  of  your  age 
fii'dW  lengthen  your  life  ;  for  as  foon,  if  God  call,  go- 
eth  the  young  as  the  old.  Labor  always  to  learn  to 
die.  Defy  the  world,  deny  the  devil,  and  defpife  the 
ilefh.  Delight  yourfelf  only  in  the  Lord.  Be  peni- 
tent for  your  fins,  yet  dcfpair  not  :  be  ftrong  in  faith, 
yet  prefume  not  ;  and  defire  with  Saint  Paul,  to  be 
"with  Chrift,  with  whom  even  in  death  there  is  life. 
Be  like  the  good  fcrvant.  Even  at  midnight  be  wak- 
ing, left  when  death  cometh,  and  f^ealeth  upon  you  as 
a  thief  in  the  night,  you  be,  with  the  evil  fervant, 
found  fleeping  ;  or  be  like  the  five  foolifh  women,  or 
like  him  that  had  not  on  the  wedding  garment,  and 
then  be  caft  out  from  the  marriage.  Rejoice  in  Chrift, 
as  I  do.  Follow  the  ftepsof  that  Divine  Mauer,and 
take  up  your  crofs.  Lay  on  him  the  burden  of  your 
fins,  and  ever  embrace  him.  As  to  my  death,  rejoice, 
as  I  do,  good  fiftcr,  that  I  fiiall  be  delivered  of  this 
corruption,  and  put  on  incorrr.ption  ;  for  I  am  aHTured 
that  by  lonng  a  mortal,  I  fnall  gain  an  immortal  life, , 
—which  I  pray  God  grznt  you y  and  fend  you  of  his 
grace  to  live  in  his  fear,  and  to  die  in  the  true  Chrif- 
tian  faith,  from  which,  in  God's  name,  I  exhort  yea 

that 


Lady  Jake  Grey.  5t 

that  you  never  fwerve,  neither  for  hope  of  life,  nor 
for  fear  oF  death.  For  if  you  deny  bis  truth  to  length- 
en your  life,  God  will  deny  you,  and  yet  fhorten  your 
days  :  and  if  you  cleave  to  him,  he  will  prolong  your 
iliys,  to  your  comfort,  and  his  glory  :  to  which  glory 
God  bring  me  now,  and  you  hereafter,  when  it  plcaf- 
cth  him  lo  call  you  !  Fare  you  well,  good  filler  !  Put 
your  only  truft  in  God,  who  only  mull  help  you." 

Among  the  precious  remalnsof  ti)islady,is  z prayer^ 
which  (he  drew  up  in  the  time  of  her  trouble.  Wc 
-prefent  it  as  dlfclofing  the  (late  of  her  mind  in  tho 
iiear  profpe6l  of  death  and  eternity. 

**  O  Lord,  thou  God  and  Father  of  my  life!   hear 
me,  a  poor  and  defolate  woman,  who  fly  to  thee  alone 
in  all  troubles  and  miferles.     Thou,  O  Lord,  art  tlie 
only  defender  and  deliverer  of  thofe  who  put  their  trufb 
in  thee  :  and  therefore  I,  being  defiled   with  fin,   en- 
cumbered with  atflicTtions,   difquieted  with   troubles^ 
wrapped  in  cares,  overwhelmed   with    miferies,    and 
r![rievoufly  tormented  v/ith  the  leng  imprifonmcnt  of  this: 
vile  raafs  of  clay,  my  fmful  bo«iy,  come   to   thee,    O 
merciful  Savior,   craving  thy  mercy  and  help,    with- 
out which  fo  little  hope  of  deliverance  is  left,    that  E 
may  utterly  defpair.     Although  it  is   expedient,   that 
fnice  our  life  llands  on  trying,  we    (liould    be    vifited 
with  adverfity,  whereby  we  may  both  be  tried,  wheth- 
er we  be  of  thy  flock  or  not  ;  and  alfo  know  thee  and 
ourfelvcsthe  better  ;  yet  thou,  who  faidlf  thou  wouldft 
not  fufFer  us  to  be  tempted  above  our  power,  be  mer- 
ciful unto  me,   a  miferable   wretch.    I    befeech  thee, 
that  I  may  neither  be  too  much  puffed  up  with  prof- 
pcrity,  nor  too  much  pre  fled  down  with  adverfity.   O 
.  merciful  G.'^djConfider  my  miftry,  befl  known  to  thee, 
and  be  thou  now  to  me  a  flrong  tower  ot  defence,    t 
luinAoly  intreat  tl;ee.      Suffer  n^e  not  to  be  tempted  a- 
bove  my  power;  but  either  deliver  me  from  this  great 
juifery,  or  give  me  grace  patiently  to  bear   thy  heavy 
iiand  and  fliarp  correction.     It    was   thy    right  hand 
c  that 


i22  Memoirs  of 

.l>>at  delivered  the  people  of  Ifrael  from  tlie  hands  of 
Pharaoh,  who  for  four  hundred  years  did  opprefs 
them,  and  keep  them  in  bondage.  Let  it  therefore 
feem  good  to  thy  fatherly  goodnefs  to  deliver  me,  for- 
rovvful  wretch,  for  whom  thy  Son  Chriit  fhed  his  prr- 
cious  blood  on  the  crofs,  from  this  miferable  captivi- 
ty and  bondage.  How  long  wilt  thou  be  abfent  ? 
Porcver?  O  Lord,  haft  thou  forgotten  to  be  gracious, 
^nd  haft  thou  fliut  up  thy  loving  kindnefs  in  difplea- 
Xure  ?  V/ilt  thou  no  more  be  intreated  ?  Is  thy  mer- 
cy clean  gene  forever,  and  thy  promife  come  utterly 
to  an  end  ?  Why  doft  thou  make  fo  long  tarrying  ? 
Shall  I  defpair  of  thy  mercj,  O  God  r  Far  be  that 
from  me.  1  am  thy  workmanftiip,  created  in  Chrift 
Jefus  :  give  me  grace  theref^ue  Xo  tarry  thy  leifure, 
and  patiently  to  bear  thy  works,  aduredly  knowing 
that  as  thou  canft,  fo  thou  wilt  deliver  me,  when  it 
•fhall  pleafe  thee  ;  nothing  doubting  or  miftriifting  thy 
goodnefs  towards  me  ;  for  thou  knoweft  better  what 
is  good  for  me  than  I  do  ;  therefore  do  with  me  in  all 
things  what  thou  wilt.  Only  in  the  mean  time,  arm 
me,  I  befeech  thee,  with  thy  armor,  that  I  may  ftand 
faft,  my  loins  being  girt  about  with  verity,  having  on 
the  breaftplate  of  righteoufnefs,  and  Ihod  with  the  ftioes 
prepareti  by  the  goi'pel  ot  peace  \  above  all  things,  tak- 
ing the  fliield  of  faith,  wherev/ith  I  may  be  able  to 
•quench  all  the  fiery  darts  of  the  w-icked,  and  the  hel- 
met of  falvation,  and  the  fword  of  the  Spirit,  which  is 
thy  mopL  holy  word  ;  praying  always  with  all  manner 
of  prayer  and  fupplication,  xhat  I  may  refer  myfelf 
wholly  to  thy  will,  abiding  thy  pleafure,  and  comfort- 
ing myfelf  in  thofe  troubles  which  It  fhall  pleafe  thee 
to  fend  me,  feeing  fuch  troubles  are  profitable  for  me, 
and  feeing  I  am  affuredly  perfuadcd  that  it  cannot  but 
be  well,  all  that  thou  doft.  Hear  me,  O  merciful 
Father,  for  his  fake  whf>m  thou  wouldft  to  be  a  facri- 
jfice  for  my  fins  :  to  whom  with  thee,  and  the  holy 
Ghoft,  be  all  honor  and  glory.     Anicn.". 


Lady  Jane  Gret.  23- 

In  the  place  of  her  confinement,  file  wrote  (it  is 
thought  with  a  pin)  the  following  verfcs  : 

Think  not,  O  mortal  vainly  gay, 
That  thou  from  human  woes  art  free  : 
The  bitter  cup  I  drink  to-day 
To-morrow  may  be  drunk  by  thee. 

Endlnfs*  all  malice,  ifourGod'be  nigh  ; 

Fruitlefs  all  pains,  if  he  his  help  deny. 

Patient  I  pafs  thefe  gioom.y  hours  away. 

And  wait  the  morning  of  eternal  day. 

We  are  now  to  attend  her  to  her  clofing  fcene,  and 
Contemplate  the  manner  in  which  fhe  met  her  violent 
and  unmerited  death.  The  day  appointed  for  her  exe- 
cution, and  her  huiband's,  was  the  12th  of  February, 
1554.  The  fatal  morning  being  come,  Lord  Dudley 
earnellly  rcquefted  of  the  officers  the  liberty  of  taking 
a  blf  farewell  of  his  beloved  confort.  This  was  read- 
ily granted  :  but  on  its  being  notified  to  her,  fhe  very 
prudently  judged  it  inexpedient  ;  and  colleding  the 
whole  force  of  her  mind,  endeavored  to  diffuade  him 
from  his  purpofe.  Shealfured  him  that »  fucha  meeting 
would  rather  adll  to  his  afflicflions,  than  increafe  the 
quiet  wherewith  they  had  pofleffed  their  fouls  for  the 
ftroke  of  death  :  that  he  demanded  a  lenitive  which 
would  put  tire  into  the  wound  ;  and  that  it  was  to  be 
feared  her  prefence  would>ather  weaken  than  flreni^th- 
en  him  :  that  if  his  foul  was  not  firm  and  fettled," fhe 
could  not  fettle  it  by  her  eyes,  nor  confirm  it  by  her 
werds  r  that  he  would  do  well  to  remit  this  inivrview 
to  the  other  world  :  that  there  indeed  friendlliips  were 
happy,  and  unions  indilfoluble  ;  and  that  theirs  would 
be  eternal,  if  they  carried  nothing  v/ith  them  gf  tcr- 
rcilrial,  which  might  hinder  themi  from  rejoicing.' 
She  exprefTed   great  emotion  when   fhe   faw'her  liuf^ 

band 
*  Perhaps  it  Jhauld  he  harmlefs. 


.^4  Memoirs  of 

band  led  out  to  execution  ;  but  foon  overcame  it  by 
Te{ie(3:ing  how  clofely  fhe  fhould follow  him.  All  ihc 
could  do,  was  to  give  him  a  tarcwel  out  of  a  wiidows, 
as  he  paded.  He  fuffered  on  a  fcaifold  on  Tower-hill, 
T.ith  much  Ch^iftian  meeknefs.  His  body,  being  laid. 
in  a  car,  and  his  head  wrapped  in  a  linen  cloth,  were 
carried  to  the  chapel  within  the  Tower,  in  the  way 
to  which,  they  paiied  under  the  window  of  Lady  jane. 
She  beheld  the  fad  fpedacle  with  a  fettled  counte- 
nance, and  foon  after  thig^  trial  of  her  fortitude,  wrote 
three  fliort  fen tences  in  her  table-book,  in  Greek, 
Xatin  and  EnglKh.  This  book  Hie  prefented  to  Sir 
John  Bridges,  Lieutenant  of  the  tower,  as  a  .grateful 
acknowledgment  of  his  civilities  ;  he  having  previouf- 
3y  entreated  of  her  fomething  which  he  might  preferve 
as  a  memorial.  The  fenfe  of  the  Greek  f^ntence  was  i 
*'  If  this  (lain  body  fliall  give  fentence  againft  me  be- 
fore men,  his  moft  ble (Ted  foul  {h?}\  render  an  ecernal 
proof  of  my  innocence  in  the  prefence  of  God."  The 
latin  fentence  may  be  thus  tranflated  :  *'  The  juincc 
of  men  took,  away  his  body,  but  the  divine  mercy  has 
preferved  his  foul."  The  Englifh  fa-ntence  was  this  : 
**  If  mv  fault  deferved  punKhment,  my  youth  at  leall, 
and  my  imprudence,  were  worthy  of  excufe.  Gad 
and  podcrity  will  fnew  me  favor." 

She  was  attended  to  thefcaffold,  and  upon  it,  by  Dr. 
peckenham,  though  llie  wasobfervednot  to  pay  much. 
:attention  to  his  difcourfe,  but  to  keep  her  eyes  fread- 
jly  fixed  on  a  book  of  prayers  which  flie  had  in  her 
liand.  After  fome  fhort  recoUecSlion,  fhe  fahited  thoie 
who  were  prefent  with  a  countenance  perfectly  c-m- 
pofed.  Then  taking  her  leave  of  Dr.  Feckenham,  fhc 
laid  :  *'  God  will  abundantly  requite  you,  good  fir, 
for  your  humanity  to  me  ;  though  your  difcourfes gave 
me  more  uneafincfs  than  all  the  terrors  of  my  ap- 
proaching death."  She  then  addrelfed  herfelf  to  ths 
ipeclators  in  a  fpeech  nearly  as  follows. 


Lady  Jane  Gr£v. 


-> 


'*  My  Lords,  and  you  good  Chriftians  who  come 
to  fee  me  die  :  I  am  under  a  law,  and  by  that  law, 
as  a  never-erring  judge,  I  am  condemned  to  die  :  not 
that  I  have  intentionally  offendeuthe  Qhieen's  Majef- 
ty  ;  for  1  will  wafh  my  hands  guiltlel's  thereof,  and 
deliver  to  my  God  a  foul  as  pure  from  fuch  trelpafs, 
as  innocence  from  Injuilice  ;  but  only  that  I  igno- 
rantly  confented  to  a  thing  which  was  forced  upoix 
me.  Notwithftanding,  1  have  offended  Almighty 
God,  in  that  I  have  followed  too  much  the  luft  of  my 
own  flelh,  and  the  pleafures  of  this;  wretched  world  : 
neither  have  I  lived  according  to  the  knowledge  that 
God  hath  given  mc  ;  for  which  caufe  He  hath  ap- 
pointed tome  this  kind  ot death,  and  that  mod:  juftly, 
according  to  my  deferts.  Yet  I  thank  him  heartily 
that  he  hath  given  me  time  to  repent  of  my-fins  ai.d 
be  reconciled  to  my  Redeemer,  wliom  my  former  van- 
ities had-  much  difpleafed.  Therefore,  my  Lords, 
and  you  good  Chriltians,  I  moft  earncftly  defire  you 
all  to  pray  with  me,  and  forme,  while  I  am  yet  alive, 
that  God  of  hi-s  infinite  goodnefs  ami  mercy  would  for- 
give my  firs,  how  numberlefs  and  grievous  foevcr  a- 
gainfl  him.  And  I  befeech  you  all  to  b^^ar  me  wit- 
Dti'sy  that  I  here  die  a  true  Chrlilian  v/oman,  profef- 
iing  and  avouching  from  my  foul,  that  I  trull  to  he 
faved  by  tl>e  blood,  pafhon  and  merit  of  Jefus  Chriil 
my  Savior  only,  and  by  no  other  means  ;  casing  far 
b-hind'me  all  the  merit  of  my  ownaciionr^,  things  as  fo 
fhort  of  the  true  duty  I  owe,  that  I  Ihudder  tu  think 
how  much  they  may  (land  no  againlime." 

Having  delivered  this  fpeech,  flic  kneeled  down, 
and  repeated  the  fifty-nrft  pilalm,  in  a  molt  devout 
manner  ;  after  which  Ihe  Hood  up,  and  gave  her  gloves 
and  handkerchief  to  her  womiCn,  and  her  prayer-book. 
t6  Sir  Johiv  Bridges.  -  On  her  untying  her  gown,  the 
executioner  offered  to  arfift  her,  but  (lie  declined.  She 
then,  turning  herfclf  to  her  wonien,  ha  1  their  help  in 
tailing  it  off  ^  on  which  they  gave  her  a  handkerchief 


56  Memoirs  of 

to  bind  about  her  eyes.  The  executioner,  kneclln* 
down,  reqvicflcd  her  forgivencfs,  which  flie  mort  wil- 
lingly gave  him.  She  then  tied  her  handkerchief  a- 
bout  her  eyes,  and  feeling  for  the  block,  faid,  *'  What 
iliail  I  do  ?  Where  is  it  r"  Upon  which,  one  of  the 
by-ilanders  guiding  her  to  it,  Ihe  laid  her  head  down 
upon  the  block,  and  then  lirctclicd  herfelf  forward, 
and  faid  :  **  Lord,  into  thine  hands  I  comincnd  my 
fpirit  ;"  and  immediately  the  executioner  at  one  Itrokc 
i'evered  the  head  from  the  body. 

Thus  fell  this  admirable  woman,  about  the  age  of 
eighteen.  The  faith  by  which  ll^e  lived,  gave  peace 
and  tranquility  to  her  latelf  hour,  and  converted  her 
ignominious  death  into  glory  and  triuiuph. 

The  following  concife  charadcr  of  her  is  given  by: 
Islr.  Fuller.  **  She  had  the  innocence  of  childhood^ 
the  beauty  of  youth,  the  folidity  of  middle  life,  and  all 
at  eighteen.  She  had  the  birth  of  a  princcfs,  the  learn- 
ing of  a  divine,  and  the  life  of  a  faint  ;  and  yet  fuf- 
fered  the  death  of  a  malefatSlor,  for  the  offences  of  her 
parent?.' 

From  a  variety  of  poetical  tributes  to  her  memory,, 
we  felcd:  the  two  following.  In  the  firft,  Lady  Jane 
is  introduced  as  fpeaking. 

To  an  hnpcr'ial JlocR  my  life  I  ow^d : 
A  crswn  imperial  on  my  !c7nptcs  gloiv'd, 
BiithiiierJjrroWy  and  corroding  care 
If  ere  woven  zvith  it,  while  it  glittered  thers^ 
A  better  diadem  viy  God  has  given y 
As  bright y  as  lajiing  as  the  days  of  heaven. 

From  the  Female  Advocate y  by  Mifs  Scott* 


The  heauteous  Dudley  rofe  to  grace  the  ftage^ 
The  pride  and  wonder  of  her  f ex  and  age  ; 
Loiv  hending  at  the  radiant  jhrine  of  truth y 
Her  foul  tynounc'd  the  idle  toys  ofy^uth, 

hnpeU'd 


Ladv  Jane  Grev,  *l^ 

ImpelFdly  nobler  fj-es  fie  boldly  f oar  d, 
And  every  Jcicjice  every  art  explord. 
Religicin  in  lis purejijorm  array' dy 
Htr  tongue y  her  manners  and  her  pen  difplay'd. 
Fore' d  to  the  fplendld  burden  of  a  crawny 
She  foon  with  pleajure  laid  the  burden  down. 
Her Jleady  Joid fate' i  fi&rcejl  frown  eould  bravf-, 
Secure  of  cndlefs  blifs  beyond  the  grave. 

O  Faith y  whofe  f  acred  tray f ports  never  clo^-, 
Sweet  prelibation  of  immortal  joy  ! 
What  proud  Philosophy  but  aims  to  preachy 
''/is  thine  with  fivereign  energy  to  teach. 
Jtifpird  by  theey  zve  learn  to  f mile  at  pain^ 
And  all  the  vanities  of  life  difdain. 
Serenely  meet  the  fudden  firoke  of  fate. 
Or  wait,  if  Heaun  approves,  a  longer  date  / 
Cmvincdy  howe'er  eternal  truth  decides, 
A  parent's  love  Jill  I  o'er  our  zveal  prcjidcs. 


CATHARINE  PARR, 
Wife  of  King  Henry  the  Eight h - 


li^ HE  was  born  about  the  beginning  of  th<? 
reign  ot  King  Henry  the  Eighth,  who  fucccecled  to 
the  throne  of  England,  A.  D.  1509.  Her  father,  Sir 
Thomas  Parr,  bellowed  on  her  a  learned  education,  as 
the  mofl  valuable  addition  he  could  make  to  her  other 
accompliflaments.  Her  progrefs  in  literature  was 
Iwlly  anfwcrablc  to  the  advantages  flic  enjoyed,  and 
realized  her  father's  moil  fanguine  expcdlations.  She 

was 


at  Memoirs  or 

\i?as  early  celcbi::tcd  not  only  tor  lier  good  fenfe,  bir> 
her  learning.  But  Ihe  was  Id's  folicitous  to  plc-afc  and 
ihinr,  tiian  to  fcrvc  God  and  mankind.  She  conic- 
crateti  her  uncommon  talents  and  accomplilhments  to 
the  bell  ot  piirpoles,  in  everv  llat^c  ot  lite. 

She  was  firll  married  to  JohhNevil,  Lord  Latymer* 
Alter'his  deccafvi,  the  beauiics  ot  her  perl'on  and  min^ 
engaged  the  a{!e«5lion9  of  King  Henry,  to  whom  (he 
was  married,  July  12,  1543-  ' 

She  fccms  to  have  had  fome  uncommon  impredions 
of  piety  from  her  infancy.  But  the  religion  of  her 
early  life  received  a  tin6lnre  from  the  blind  and  fn- 
pcrl\itious  devotion  of  that  age;  ■  In  thtfe  errors  flic 
did  not  long  reniuin.  •  By  a  conflant  and  clofe  atten- 
tion to  the  word  of  God,  which  was  her  chief  delight, 
and  by  hisbleliingon  her  inveltigations  of  divine  truih, 
flic  V.  as  foon  freed  from  the  miltakes  in  which  the  had 
been  educated,  and  erHgbteneil-into  the  diilingnilhing 
do(flrines  of  the  gofpel.  She  not  only  renounced  the 
errors  of  Popery,  but  gave  great  encouragement  to  the 
Proieltant  caufe,  and  engaged  with  much  fpirit  in  for- 
"Wardingthe  Reformation.  This  important  dcTign  (he 
profccuted  as  far  as  the  mutable  and  pcrverfe  difpoii- 
tion  of  an  arbitrary  prince,  and  the  iniquity  ot  the 
times  would  admit  ;  and  even  farther  than  (lie  could 
go  with.out  expofiiig  .  herfelf  to  the  utmoll  chnger. 
Ti'hough  her  laudable  attempts  were  purfucd  with  great 
prudence,  and  v:s  much  fecrccy  as  the  nature  of  the  calc 
would  allow,  thev  could  not  efcape  the  malicious  ob- 
fervation  of  the  bigotted  adlierents  to  Pop<?ry  with 
whom  flic  w^as  furrounded;  In  confequence,  a  con- 
fpiracy  was  formed  againlt  her  by  Bilhop  Gardiner** 
and  other  inP.uential  chara«Elers,  who  conduifled  their 
phm  with  [o  much  art  and  fncceft:,  that  having  drawn 
up  articles  of  accufation,  they  procured  a  warrant, 
i'luned  by  the  king's!. and,  to  remove  her  tothe  Tower. 
This  inlbi:menr,  being  accidentr.llv  droppt^d,  was 
found  bv  a  pcribii  whu  conveyod  it  to-her  Maieilw 
-         ^  The 


Catharine  Parr.  zf 

The  fight  of  It,  and  the  rcfle(5^ions  it  excited  on  the 
hard  condition  of  female  royalty,  occafioned  a  violent 
diTorder  which  confined  her  to  her  bed.  In  this  con- 
finement fhc  was  vifited  by  the  king,  who  feemed  af- 
feded  v/ith  her  fuflFerings,  and  treated  her  with  much 
tcndernefs.  Soon  after,  being  partially  recovered,  and 
undcrilanding  that  the  king  himfelf  was  inuifpofed, 
ihe  returned  his  A'lajefty's  vint,  hoping  that  fomething 
mig-ht  be  attempted  to  avert  the  impending  danger. 
The  king  fcemucd  pleafed  with  her  attention,  addreflT- 
cd  her  kindly,  and  foon  turned  theconverfation  to  re- 
ligion ; Teeming  defirous  to  be  refolved  by  her  oncer- 
tain  difTiculties,  which  he  propofed.  The  queen,  per- 
ceiving the  defign  of  his  dilcourfe,  expreiTea  herfelf  oa 
this  fubjedl  with  fuch  prudence,  caution  and  defer- 
ence, as  greatly  foftcned  his  temper,  and  drew  from 
him  the  ftrongeft  aflurances  of  reconciliation  and 
friendfhip.' 

But  the  refolution  of  the  confpirators  was  unfhak- 
en  ;  and  the  lime  appointed  for  the  queen's  imprifon- 
mcnt  arrived  foon  after.  She  had  gone,  in  confequencc 
of  a  mclTage  from  the  king,  ta  the  royal  garden,  at- 
tended by  ieveral  ladies  who  had  mofl:  of  her  intimacy 
and  confidence,  and  who  were  to  be  impri Toned  with 
her.  Here  (he  was  converfing  with  his  Majeliy,  who 
feemed  unufually  cheerful  and  entertaining, .  when  to 
her  great  fnrprife,  forty  of  the  king's  guards  appeared, 
■with  the  Lord  Cha-.^ellcr  at  their  head.  The  capri- 
cious monarch  gave  him  a  ftern  look,  and  retiring  a 
little,  addrci'led  him  in  the  moft  paflionate  and  con- 
temptuous exprefIion«:,  bidding  him  depart  inltantly 
from  his  prcfence.  On  the  king's  returning  to  the 
queen,  and  appearing  much  cha^jrincd,  Ihe  employed 
all  the  powc  rs  of  her  eloquence  to  appeafe  his  difpieaf- 
ure  ;  humbly  inrreating  him,  that  if  the  Chancellor's 
Janlr  were  r.ot  too  heinaus,  he  would  pardon  him  for 
her  Jake.  N.>r  did  ilie  ceafe  the  expreflion  of  her  kind 
sitid.beiievolent  feelings,  even  aiier  the  king  had  inti- 
mated 


39  Memoirs  oi* 

mated' to  her  the  unworthinefs  and  evil  defigns  of  hint 
for  whom  ihe  interceded. 

Thus  remarkably  did  divine  Providence  defend  her 
from  the  malice  and  fnares  ot  her  enemies.  Refcued 
from  a  danger  thus  imminent  and  diftrefling,  fhe  paflTed- 
fafely  through  the  remainder  of  this  tempeduous  reign. 
But  the  akrrn  (he  experienced  was  falutary  in  its  con- 
fequences.  It  rouzed  all  her  fou*, excited  her  to  nev/ 
fervency  in  meditation  and  prayer,  and  quickened  her 
preparations  for  eternity. 

She  now  perceived  with  new  conviftion  tliat  tl\e' 
principles  of  religion  tlie  had  firft  imbibed,  did  notr 
correfpond  with  the  infpired  writings.  But  though' 
poireifcd  of  no  inconfiderable  (hare  of  learning,  joined* 
to  an  excellent  underftanding,  fhe  dared  not  rely  on: 
thefe  alone,  in  things  of  fo  great  importance.  Hum- 
bly -diiiruftful  of  her  own  abilities  and  refearches,  and 
anxious  to  obtain  the  belt  lights,  Ihe  kept  feveral  em- 
inent divines  confiantly  with  her,  to  folve  her  doubts,- 
and  indrucl  her  in  the  true  religion.  With  thefe 
learned  men,  who  were  her  chaplains,  fhe  had  many" 
private  conferences  about  the  dodfrines  of  the  Refor- 
mation, and  the  abufes  which  had  then  crept  into  the 
church.  She  had  a  fermon  preached  to  her  in  the  af- 
ternoon of  every  day,  in  her  chamber  ;  at  which  exer- 
cifes,  the  hivlies  and  gentlemen  of  her  privy  chamber, 
and  others  who  were  difpofed  to  hear,  were  prefent. 
To  all  this  fne  added  great  application  and  induffry  in 
the  ftudy  cf  books  of  divinity,  particularly  the  hoYy 
fcriptures. 

Thus  qualified,  fhe  began  to  cptumrt  fome  of  ner 
thoughts  to  writing.  Her  firft  compofition  has  this 
memorable  title:  ^ieen  Catharhie  Parr  s^LaTnentation 
ef  a  finner  hewailing  the  ignorance  of  her  blind  life. 
This  produdion  was  found  a.-nong  her  papers  atter 
her  de'ath,  and  was  publilhedby  Secretary  Cecil,  who 
attended  it  with  a  preface  of  his  own.  Here  fhe  ac- 
knowledged thti  fiaful  courfe   ef  her   life   for    many 

yearsj 


Cathar IKE  Park.  35 

rears,  in  which,  relying  on  external  performance!-,  fucli 
as  Fafts  and  Pili^rimages,  (he  was  all  the  time  a  ftrang- 
er  to  the  interiral  power  of  religion,  which  (he  came 
afterward  to  experience  by  the  lludy  of  the  fcriptiire^, 
and  prayer  to  God  for  the  aiTiltance  of  that  holy  Spirit 
by  whole  direction  they  were  indited,.  She  explains 
clearly  the  ideas  (he  had  oi juftification  ly  faith y^vsA  of 
holinefs  as  its  neceilary  conltquence  ;  and  laments  the 
great  fcandal^  given  bysnany  Gcfpellers,  a  name  giv- 
en to  thofe  who  read  and  fiuciied  the  Scriptures. 

She  alio  drew  up  pfalms,  prayers  and  pious  difcourf- 
.C.S,  which  were  publilhed  during  her  life.  The  pfalms 
"H'ere  compofed  in  imitation  of  thofe  of  David,  from 
which  (as  from  other  parts  of  fcriptnre)  many  verfes 
\rere  borrowed.  The  firft  was  a  fupplication/<7r  the 
rem'Jjhn  of  fins,  beginning  thus :  ^'  O  Lord  ct  lords, 
God  Almighty,  great  and  dreadful  ;  who  by  thy  word 
Jiail  made  heaven,  esrih,  and  fea,  and  all  things  con- 
.tained  in  them  I  nothing  is  able  to  re  fid  thy  power: 
thy  mercy  is  over  all  thy  works  :  all  things  are  under 
ihy  dominion,  both  man  and  beall,  and  all  livingcrea- 
tures.  Tliou  art  merciful  to  whom  thou  wilt,  and 
liaff  compaiiion  on  whom  it  pleafeth  thee,  &:c." 

The  fecond  Pi'alm  was  on  the  fame  fubjcC^,  begin<» 
ning  thus  :  *>  O-moil:  mighty  God  of  angels  and  men, 
whofe  judgments  are  unfearchablcjand  whofe  wifdom 

is  prof.oLuid  and  deep  : Hear  the  prayer  of  thy  fer- 

vant,  and  caft  not  away  the  humble  fuit  of  ihy  poor 
creature  and  h?-ndy-work,  .&c."  The  other  pfalms 
vvere  the  effuHons  of  a  pious  mind  in  complaint,  fup- 
plication,  thankfgiving,  &c. 

The  players  likewife  exhibit  much  of  the  fpirit  of 
piety  and  devotion,  of  a  fenfe  of  God,  and  dependence 
ijpon  him,  and  many  of  them  are  judicioufly  adapted 
to  the  peculiarities  of  her  own  condition.  One  com- 
pofed for  t!ie  King,  and  for  the  \](ii  of  men  entering 
battle,  contains  the  following  petition  :  ''Our  caufe 
bein^  ji70W  juft,  and  being  ei; forced  into  war  and  bat- 
tle. 


3^  Memoirs  op 

tie,  we  mofi;  humbly  bcfeech  thee,  O  Lord  God  of 
Horts,  fo  to  turn  the  hearts  of  our  enemies  to  the  de- 
fire  of  peace,  that  no  blood  be  fpilt  :  or  elfe  grant,  O 
Lord,  that  with  fmall  effufion  of  blood,  and  to  the  lit- 
tle hurt  and  damage  of  innocents,  we  may  to  thy  glo- 
ry obtain  vidlory  ;  that  the  wars  being  foon  ended,  wc 
may  all  with  one  heart  and  mind, knit  together  in  con- 
cord and  unity,  laud  and  praife  thee." 

The  following  prayer  may  ferve  as  a  fpecimen  of 
the  devout  exercifes  of  her  foul. 

**  Moft  benign  Lord  Jcju  !  grant  me  thy  grace  that 
it  may  always  v/ork  in  me,  and  perfevere  with  me  to 
the  end. 

"Grant  me  that  I  may  ever  defire  and  will  that 
which  is  mofl  pleafing  and  acceptable  to  thee. 

*^  Thy  will  be  my  will,  axnd  my  will  to  follow  al- 
ways thy  will. 

"  Let  there  be  always  In  me  one  will,  and  one  de- 
fire  with  thee  ;  and  let  me  have  no  defire  to  will,  or 
not  to  will,  but  as  thou  wilt. 

<*^  Lord  thou  knov/eft  what  is  moft  profitable  and 
rnoPc  expedient  for  me  : 

<*  Give  me  therefore  v/hat  thcu  wilt,  as  much  as 
thou  wilt,  and  when  thou  wilt. 

*^  Do  with  m.e  what  thou  wilt,  as  it  fliall  pleafe 
thee,  and  as  (hail  be  moft  to  thine  honor. 

**  Thy  creature  I  am,  and  in  thy  hands.  Lead  me, 
and  turn  me  where  thou  wilt. 

"  Lo  !  I  am  thy  fervant,  ready  to  all  things  that 
thou  commanded  ;  for  I  defire  not  to  live  to  myfelf, 
but  to  thee. 

**  Lord  Jefu  !  I  pray  thee  grant  me  thy  grace,  that 
I  may  never  let  my  heart  on  the  things  of  this  world, 
but  thai  all  carnal  and  worldly  afFeclions  may  utterly 
die,  and  be  mortified  in  me. 

"  Grant  me  above  all  thiners,  that   I    may  reft  ia 
thee,  and  fullv  pacify  and  c^uiet  my  heart  in  thee. 
'         ,  **  For 


Cathai^ine  Parr,  -33 

^*  For  thou,  Lord,  art  the  very  true  peace  of  heart, 
and  the  perteci  reft  of  the  foul  ;  and  without  thee,  all 
things  are  grievous  and  unquiet. 

*^^My  Lord  /e/u  !  I  befeech  thee,  be  with  me  in 
every  place,  and  at  all  times  ;  and  let  it  be  to  me  11 
fpecial  foiace  gladly  to  lack  all  worldly  folace. 

**  And  if  thou  withdrav/  thy  comfort  from  me  at 
any  time,  keep  me,  O  Lord,  from  defperation,  and 
make  me  patiently  to  bear  thy  will. 

"  O  Lord  Jefu  !  thy  judgments  are  righteous,  and 
thy  providence  is  much  better  for  me  than  all  that  I 
can  imagine  or  devife. 

**  Wherefore  do  with  me  in  all  things  as  it  (hall 
pleafe  thee. 

*'  For  it  mav  not  be  but  v/eil,  all  that  thou  doft.  If 
thou  wilt  that  I  be  in  light,  be  thou  blelTed  \  if  thoa 
wilt  that  I  be  in  darknefs,  be  thou  alfo  bleffed. 

**  If  thou  vr;uchfafe  to  comfort  me,  be  th.ou  highly 
blelTed  :  and  if  thou  wilt  I  lie  in  trouble,  and  withouc 
comfort,  be  thou  likewife  ever  blefied. 

"  Lord,  give  m.e  grace  gladly  to  fuffer  whatfoever 
thou  will  lb  all  fall  unon.  vnt,  and  pauently  to  take  at 
thy  hand  good  and  evil,  bitter  and  i "vveet,  joy  and  for- 
row  ;  and  for  all  things  that  (hall  befall  mie,  heartily 
to  thank  thee. 

*'  Keep  m.e,  Lord,  from  fin,  and  I  Hi  all  then  dread 
neither  death  nor  hell. 

**  Oh  !  what  thanks  ihall  I  give  unto  thee,  who  hafc 
fuffered  the  grievous  death  of  the  crv:;rs,  to  deliver  me 
irom   my  fins,  and  to  obtain   everlafting  life  for  me? 

**  Thou  gavcil  us  the  moft  perfect  example  of  pa- 
tience, fulfilling  and  obeying  the  v/iil  of  thy  Faiher, 
even  unto  death. 

*^  Make  me,  wretched  Hnner,  obi-diently  *^o  uf^  my- 
felf  after  thy  will  in  all  things,  and  patiently  to  bear 
the  burden  of  this  corrupt  life. 

*'  For  though  this,  lire  be  tedious,  and  as  a  heavy- 
burden  to  my  foul,  yet  nevextheiefs,  through  thygrace,- 
D  and 


34  Memoirs  of 

nnd  by  example  of  thee,  it  is  now  made  much  more 
eafy  and  comfortable;  thMi  it  was  before  thy  incarna- 
tion a.nd  painon. 

Thy  holy  life  is  our  way  to  thee  ;  and  by  following 
that,  we  walk  to  thee  who  art  our  Head  and  Savior, 
Except  thou  had  ft  gone  before,  and  fhcwedusthe  way 
to  everlafting  life,  who  would  endeavor  himfelf  to  fol- 
low thee,  feeing  we  are  yet  fo  flow  and  dull,  having 
the  light  of  thy  blclled  example  and  holy  doftrine,  to 
lead  and  direct  us  r 

"  O  Lord  Jefu  !  make  that  poliible  by  grace,  that 
is  to  me  impoflible  by  nature. 

*'  Thou  knoweit  well  that  I  can  little  fuffer,  that 
I  am  foon  cafl:  down,  and  overthrown  with  a  litik 
r^dverfiiy  :  wherefore  I  bcfeech  thee,  O  Lord,  to 
ilrengthen  me  with  thy  Spirit,  that  I  may  willingly 
inffer  for  ihy  fake,  all  m.anner  of  troubles  and  aftiic- 
tions. 

**  Lord,  I  will  acknowledge  unto  thee  all  my  un- 
righteonfnefs,  and  confcfs  all  the  inftabiliiy  of  my 
heart. 

*'  Oftentimes  a  very  little  thing  troublethine  much, 
and  maketh  me  dull  and  flow  to  ferve  thee  : 

**  And  fom.etimes  i  purpofe  to  ftand  ftrongly,  but 
when  a  little  trouble  cometh,  it  is  to  me  great  an- 
guifli  and  grief;  and  of  a  very  little  thing  rifeth  a 
grievous  temptation. 

**  Yea,  when  I  think  myfelf  fure  and  ftrong,  fud- 
denly  I  feel  myfelf  ready  to  fall  with  a  little  blaft  of 
temptation. 

*'  Behold  therefore,  good  Lord,  ray  w^eaknefs,  and 
confider  my  frailty,  bell  known  to  thee. 

**  Have  mercy  on  m^e,  and  deliver  me  from  all  ini- 
quity and  fm,  that  I  be  not  entangled  therewith. 

"  OftentimiCs  it  grieveth  me'  much,  and  in  a  man- 
iierco4ifoundeth  me,  that  I  am  {o  unftable,  fo  weak 
a-nd  frail  in  refilling  fmful  motions  ;  which,  although 
they  draw  me  not  av/ay  to  confent.  are  yet  very  grie^ 
V0U4S  iii  their  uiTaults ; '  **  And 


CAtHARiXE  Parr.  35 

'^  And  it  is  tedious  to  me  to  live  in  fuch  conPiicl  ; 
although  I  perceive  that  it  is  not  iir.prolitable  ;  for 
thereby  I  know  myfelf  and  my  own  infirmities,  ami 
that  I  muil:  feek  help  only  at  thy  hands. 

**  Whatever  pleahire  the  world  otrereth  me  here, 
is  but  an  unpleafant  burden. 

**  I  defire  to  have  inward  fruition  in  thee,  but  I 
cannot  attain  thereto.'' 

The  number  as  well  as  piety  of  thefe  compoG- 
tiop.s  (hews  how  m»tchof  her  time  and  thoughts,  amid 
the  bufinefs  and  ceremony  of  her  exalted  ftation,  was 
devoted  to  the  concerns  of  her  own  foul,  and  to  tl.o 
dilfemination  of  piety  and  virtue  among  her  people. 
And  as  (he  well  kjiew  the  im.portancc  and  neceility 
of  learning,  in  order  to  the  fpread  of  religion,  Ihe 
ufed  her  utmoft  endeavors  to  promote  ir.  The  fol- 
lowing inifance    is  worthy  to  be  recorded. 

When  the  acl  was  paflcd,  that  all  colleges,  chan- 
tries and  free  chapels  fhouM  be  in  the  king's  dif- 
pofal,  the  Univerlity  of  Cambridge,  much  alarmed 
and  knowing  the  queen's  regard  to  learning,  addreiTed 
letters  to  her,  intreating  her  Majeiiy  to  intercede  with 
the  king  in  behalf  of  their  colleges.  This  llie  did, 
and  to  effed.  In  her  letter  of  reply  to  the  Univerfi- 
ty,  fhe  expreifes  herfelf  to  this  purpofe  :  ^  That  fhci 
had  intreated  the  king  in  behalf  of  their  polfellions  ; 
and  that  notwithrtanding  his  Majefty's  property  and 
intereft  in  them  by  virtue  of  the  A.ct  of  Parliament, 
he  was  fuch  a  patron  of  learning,  that  he  woidd  rather 
erecl  new  colleges  than  do  any  thing  to  injure  thofe 
that  cxirted  :  fo  that  to  him  learning  might  hereafter 
afcribe  its  confervation  and  defence  :' — adding  that 
*  fhe  doubted  not  that  their  ihWy  invocations  would 
be  offered  up  for  the  prefervation  and  profpcrity  of 
their  royal  benefaclor,  to  Him  who  alone  can  difpofe 
all  to  every  creature.'  In  the  fam.c  letter  fhe  writis 
ll'.it  ♦  forafmuch  as  Ihe  well  unJerftood  that  all  kinds 


3^  Memoirs  or 

of  learning  flouriHv?:!  among  them,  'as  ainon?  the 
Greeks  at  Athens  long  sgo,  ihe  defired  and  required 
il<ena  all  not  To  to  hunger  for  the  exquifitc  knowledge 
nf  prolane  learning,  that  it  might  be  thought  that  the 
Greek  Univeriity  was  but  tranfpofed,  or  in  England 
revived,  forgetting  our  Chriftianity  ;  iince  the  excel- 
lency of  the  Greeks  only  attained  to  moral  and  natu- 
yal  things  ,  but  that  ih^i  rather  gently  exhorted  them 
io  ftudy  and  apply  tlicfe  do6lrines  (the  variety  of  hu-. 
man  learning^  as  means  and  fteps  lo  the  attaining  and 
fettlng  forth  the  better  Christ's  reverend  and  moil 
iacred  doclrineG  ;  that  it  might  not  be  laid  againil 
them  in  evidence  at  the  tribunal  of  God,  that  thev 
•uere  afliamed  of  Cl^rlft's  doctrine  :  for  this  leffon,' 
ilie  adds  *  I  am  taught  to  fay  by  St.  Paul  :  A'^o'i  pudei 
me  cvangelii  :*  to  the  fmcere  fetting  forth  whereof  I 
Uw^  univerfally,  in  all  your  vocations  and  miniilries, 
you  will  apply  and  conform  your  various  gifts,  arts 
and  [ludies,  to  fuch  an  end  that  Cambridge  may  be  ac- 
counted rather  a  Univerfity  of  divine  philofophy, 
than  of  natural  and  moral,  as  Athens  was.' 

This  letter,  while  it  Ihews  the  great  influence  flic 
li&d  with  the  king,  fliews  likewife  liow  well  it  was 
merited  by  the  good  ufe  flie  made  of  it.  Indeed 
ilie  had  the  ftrongeft  claims  on  his  favor  :  for  except- 
ing the  ftudy  of  the  fcriptures,  and  the  duties  of  de- 
voiion,  noihing  was  more  her  objeef  than  to  gratify 
him.  This  was  an  arduous  tafk.  That  part  of  his 
life  which  flie  was  defttned  to  fhare  v.ith  him,  was^ 
attended  with  almofl:  continual  indifpofition  :  and  ill 
health  feem,ed  to  add  fiercenefs  to  a  difpofition  natu- 
rally harfli  and  intra£fable.  Nor  was  it  uncommon 
for  his  principal  favorites  to  fuffer  feverely  by  his 
caprice  and  pafhon.  Yet  fuch  were  the  amiable 
qualities  of  the  queen,  fuch  her  tendernefs  and  the 
charms  of  her  converfation,  that  (lie  not  only  contri- 
buted much  to  alleviate  the  pains  of  his  ficknefs,  but 

amid 
''''  I  am  not  np^ained  of  the  ^ofpeL 


Catharine  Pa^r. 


61^ 


J^inid  all,  fecured  and  riveted  his  afFeaion  to  fucb  a 
degree,  that  after  the  difappointment  of  the  cruel 
fcheme  of  Billiop  Gardiner,  none  of  her  enemies 
dared  make  a  fimilar  attempt. 

Her  zeal  for  the  Reformation,  and  defire  to  have 
the  Scriptares  underliood  by  the  common  people,  in- 
duced her  to  proctire  an  able  tranflation  of  Krajmus* 
Paraphraje  of  the  New  Tejlamcnt  into  Englifli.  The 
expenfe  of  this  important  and  ufeful  work,  though 
gr^at,  was  entirely  h&r  own.  She  engaged  Lady  Mary, 
afterward  Qi_ieen  Mary,  in  tranflating  theParaphrafe. 
on  the  gofpel  of  St.  John.  A  Latin  better  which  (he 
wrote  her  on  this  fubjcc^,  is  ftill  extant. 

The  lafl:  year  of  her  life  was  pafTcd  under  a  cloud. 
King  Henry  dying  about  three  years  and  a  half  after 
file  had  been  his  wife,  flie  was  married  to  Sir  Thomas 
Seymour,  Lord  Admiral  of  England.  Sad  experi- 
ence now  taught  her  that  a  throne  was  not  the  only 
fccne  of  trouble  and  vexation  of  fpirit.  Her  nev/ 
condition  was  em.bittered  by  the  harlhnefs  and  am- 
bition of  herhufl^and,  and  by  the  unexampled  pride 
and  caprice,  of  fome  of  his  relations.  P\irious  ani~ 
mofitics  enfued,  which  .deftroycd  her  peace,  and  that 
of  her  family.  She  did  not  indeed  ceafe  to  piofecutc 
her  pious  and  charitable  defjgns.  But  her  opportuni- 
ties both  of  improvement  and  ufefulnefs  were  much 
lelTened.  Her  fpirit  was  broken,  and  the  time  of  her 
releafc  was  at  hand.  Being  d-Jivered  of  a  dauglucr 
in  the  month  of  September,  1548,  flie  furvived  but 
a  few  days.  But  dealh  was  her  befl  friend.  It  put 
her  in  polTeflion  of  an  incorruptible  crown,  a  king- 
dom that  cannot  be  moved.  It  tranllated  her  to  thai 
region  where  the  wicked  ccaje  fr:m  troubling ^  and  tL 
weary  are  at  rej}, 

x>  3  JANE, . 


3§  Memoirs  op 


JANE,  QUEEN  of  NAVARRE, 


OHE  was  daughter  to  Henry  the  Second, 
J^ing  of  Navarre,  and  Margaret  of  Orleans,  fifter  of 
Prancis  the  Firft,  king  of  France.  She  was  by  her 
parents  carefully  intruded  from  her  infancy  in  the 
Proteftant  religion,  of  which  flie  was  a  firm  friend 
and  fupporter,  to  the  clofe  of  her  life.  She  was 
married  to  Anthony  of  Bourbon,  fon  of  the  Duke  of 
Vendofme,  by  whom  flie  had  Henry  the  Fourth, 
King  of  France  by  his  father's  right,  and  of  Navarre 
hy  his  mother's. 

She  early  began  to-  fuffer  from  the  bigotry  and 
Jiils  of  the  leading  Papifts  of  France,  to  Vrhofecruei 
iTialice  fhe  finallylfcll  a  vidim.  Their  firft  obje6t 
was  to  detach  herhufband,  the  king  of  Navarre,  from 
ihe  Proteftant  intered,  that  thus  they  might  weaken, 
and  in  the  ilTue  deftroy  it.  On  this  objefi  they  were 
i.he  more  intent,  as,  being  the  firft  prince  of  the  blood,. 
}ie  was  ofcourfe  protcclor  to  the  heir-apparent  of  the 
French  crown,  during  his  minority.  The  king  was 
overcome  by  their  artifices.  He  not  only  eftranged 
himfelf  by  degrees  from  the  Proteftants,  but  folicit- 
ed  the  queen  his  wife  to  return  into  the  bofom  of 
the  Romilh  Church,  and  induce  her  children  to 
follow  her  fleps.  But  her  attachment  to  the  truth 
was  too  enlightened  and  too  ftrong  to  admit  of  fo  cafy 
a  renunciation.  She  retained  her  religion,  biit  loll 
the  afFc6lions  of  her  huftand  ;  and  in  confequence, 
retired  to  Podium  in  the  a>tintry  of  Berne,  where 
ilie  kept  her  court.  (  Soon 


Jane,  Queen  of  Navarre.     39 

Soon  after,  at  the  flege  of  Orleans,  the  king  receiv- 
ed a  wound  in  the  fhoiilder,  v/hich,  after  a  fhort  lan- 
giiifliment,  pnt  a  period  to  his  lile. 

The  next  defign  of  the  faction  before  mentioned, 
was  to  feize  upon  the  queen,  with  her  fon  and  daugh- 
ter, and  bring  them  before  the  Spanifh  Inquifition. 
But  by  a  fignal  interpofition  of  Providence,  this  cruel 
plot  w  as  frultrated. 

In  the  time  of  the  third  civil  war  on  account  of 
religion,  the  pious  queen  thought  it  her  duty  to 
raife  a  confiderable  force,  which  (he  led  to  Rochelle, 
Averfe  to  the  laft  rcfort,  (he  endeavored  to  avoid  it- 
But  her  remonfi ranees  to  the  opponte  party  proving 
fruitlefs,  and  every  pacific  propofal  having  been  rc- 
je6^ed,  the  war  went  on.  In  the  battle  of  BaiTac, 
the  Protcftants  were  defeated,  and  the  prince  of  Conde 
was  flaiii.  As  foon  as  the  mclanchcly  news  arrived 
at  Rochelle,  the  queen  hailed  to  the  Proteftant  army, 
where  before  a  great  alfembly  of  nobles  and  foldiers, 
ilie  made  an  animating  and  impreflive  fpeech.  She 
applauded  the  virtue  and  conftancy  of  the  prince  of 
Conde,  who  had  faithfully  exerted  himfelf  even  to 
death,  in  the  defence  of  (o  good  a  caufe.  She  exhort- 
ed the  reft  to  imitate  his  example,  and  to  perfevere  in 
maintaining  the  truth  of  Chrilt,  and  the  liberty  of 
their  country  :  **  For,"  faid  fhe,  **  the  good  caufe  is 
not  dead  with  the  prince  of  Conde,  neither  ought 
w  orthy  men  to  yield  to  defpondency  in  fuch  cafes, 
God  having  fo  provided  for  his  caufe,  that  he  gave 
Conde  com{)anions  while  he  lived,  who  may  fuccecd 
him  now  he  is  no  more.  1  have  brought  with  me," 
ihe  added,  **  my  only  fon  Henry,  who,  as  he  is  the  heir 
of  Conde's  name,  fo  he  is  alfo  of  his  virtues.  Thefe, 
with  other  Nobles,  I  trull,  will  never  be  wanting  la 
fo  good  a  caufe." — After  this  addrefs  to  the  Nobles 
and  army,  and  m?ny  things  faid  in  private  to  her  fon, 
to  encourage  and  confirm  his  mind,  file  returned  to 
Rochelle,  to  raife  new  fuccois. 

Still 


40"  Mentoirs  07^ 

Still  fuccefs  attended  her  enemies.     They  rcducrJ 
the  countries    of  Berne  and    Foix,  and   laid  fiege   to. 
Navarre,  the  only  place  of  flrength  which  remained 
to  the  queen. 

In  this  melancholy  and  alarming  crifis,  her  little 
army  was  blefTed  with  a  vi6lory  as  important  as  it 
was  unexpected  and  furprillng.  Thefiegewas  raifed, 
the  enemy  difperfed.  her  lo(l  territory  regained,  and 
the  war  concluded  by  a  treaty  which  ftipulated  the  free 
exercife  of  her  relirnon. 

o 

But  the  malice  of  the  Popiih  party  was  flill  una- 
bated. What  force  could  not  eifed,  they  now  at- 
tempted to  accomplifh  by  art.  At  their  inftigation. 
a  marriage  was  propofcd  between  Henry,  the  queen 
of  Navarre's  fon,  and  the  French  King's  fifler.  To 
this  propofal,  which  feemed,  in  many  rerpe6ls  honor^ 
able  and  advantageous  to  the  queen,  (he  replied  by  an 
^xpreffion  of  her  gratitude,  and  of  her  difpofition  to 
comply  with  the  French  king,  fo  far  as  the  rriighr 
confiitently  with  a  good  confcience  ;  adding,  that  in 
the  prefent  cafe,  flie  had  her  doubts  on  account  of  th<^ 
difference  in  religion  between  her  fon  and  the  lady  : 
but  that  fhe  vv^ould  confult  her  divines  on  the  fubje£t, 
and  what  fhe  fhould  find  would  contribute  to  the 
glory  of  God;  and  the  good  of  the  kingdom,  fue 
would  cheerfully  embrace. 

In  confequence  of  t'nis  confultation,  and  the  favora^ 
ble   opinion  c-f   feveral    Proteftant   divines,    (though 
others  diiTentedj  together  widi  the  fpecioiis  pretences 
of  the  king  and  queen-mother,  the  marriage  was  de-- 
termined  on,  and  its  conditions  adjufled. 

In  the  mean  time,  the  queen's  attachment  to  the 
Reformation  was  in  no  degree  impaired  ;  nor  did  fhe 
relax  her  efforts  to  fupport  and  propagate  it.  She. 
employed  the  prefent  interval  of  peace  and  leifure  in 
fending  into  Cantabria,  a  province  of  the  jurifdiclion 
of  Navarre,  a  numbirr  of  pallors,  previoufly  inftrucled 
(a  its  language;  though  until  then  it  had  been  under- 

Oood 


Jane,  Qjjeen  of  Navarre.  41 

fcood  by  almofr  none  befide  the  natives,  and  was 
thought  quite  incapable  of  being  written.  She  took 
care  likewife  to  fend  among  them  the  New  Tefta- 
ment,  the  Catechifm,  and  the  prayers  iifed  in  the 
Crinrch  of  Geneva  ;  all  which  the  for  this  pnrpofe 
canfed  to  be  iranflated  into  the  Gafcoigne  or  Canta- 
brian  tongue,  and  printed  in  an  excellent  llyle. 

The  king  of  France  infifting  that  the  propofed 
jnarriage  fhould  be  celebrated  in  Paris,  as  what  would 
contribute  much  to  univerfal  harmony  and  fatisfadion, 
the  queen  of  Navarre  repaired  thither,  not  without 
reluctance,  but  utterly  unfufpicious  of  the  bloody 
and  barbarous  fchcmes  which  were  planned,  and 
fliortly  to  be  perpetrated  in  that  city.  Indeed  who 
could  have  imagined  that  a  marriage  was  to  be  the 
occafion  and  the  fignal  for  the  murder  of  thoufands  of 
innocent  Proteilants  ?  Yet  fuch  was  the  deteltable  de- 
sign of  the  Papifts  then  in  power— a  defign  but  too 
fuccefsfully  accompli  filed.* 

Tiie  pious  queen  had  long  been  regarded  with  eyes 
of  averfion  by  the  queen-mother,  a  mod  cruel  and 
bigotted,  though  unprincipled  woman,  who  feemed 
determined  at  all  events  to  crufh  the  Reformation, 
In  the  wide-fpread  deftruclion  of  the  Proreftants 
which  her  malice'had  planned,  (he  wilhed  to  include 
the  queen  ;  and  the  more,  as  (he  dreaded  the  effects  of 
the  greatnefs  of  her  fpirit,  Ihould  file  furvive  the  gene- 
ral maffacre.  But  a  colorable  pretext  was  wanting. 
She  therefore  imparted  her  defign  to  a  wretch  of  the 
name  of  P«.ene,  an  Italian,  who,  at  her  infiance,  f(^ld 
tlie  queen  o^  Navarre  certain  perfumes  mingled  v/ith 
a  fubtil  and  powerful  poifon. 

The 

*  The  inhuman  work  commenced  at  Paris,  on^  St. 
BarthrAomew'sdayyAuguft  24.,  1572.  In  this  city,  and 
ether  parts  of  France,  30,000  Proiejtants  ixieremaj- 
Jacredj  without  regard  to  age  or/ex. 


42  Memoirs  of 

The  queen  fell  fick  of  a  continued  fever,  which 
ihe  perceived  would  terminate  in  death.  With  equal 
folenmity  and  compofure  of  mind,  ilie  endeavored  w 
prepare  for  the  ftroke.  Calling  her  fon  Henry,  fhe 
in  joined  him  above  all  things,  carefully  to  ferve  God, 
according  to  the  religion  in  which  he  had  been  educa>- 
ted,  and  not  to  fuifer  iiimfelf  to  be  diverted  from  it  by 
the  empty  pleafures  and  delights  of  the  world.  She 
charged  him  to  take  care  that  the  conftitutlons  con- 
cerning it,  which  fhe  had  publiihed  in  the  principali- 
ty of  Berne,  and  the  lower  Navarre,  lliould  be  in- 
violably preferved.  She  exhorted  him  to  purge  his 
family,  and  baniih  thence  all  irreligious  counfellors, 
an:J  all  flatterers,  the  abufers  of  princes,  with  all 
other  vicious  perfons  ;  but  carefully  to  retain  all  good 
men,  of  whom  (he  named  feveral  of  unfpotted  repu- 
tation. She  befought  him  to  take  a  tender  care  of  his 
fider  Catharine,  to  give  her  an  education  in  the  fame 
fchool  of  piety  in  which  he  had  received  his  own,  and 
to  difpofe  her  in  marriage,  at  the  fuitable  lime,  to  a 
prince  of  the  Protedant  religion.  She  then  appoint^ 
him  her  heir,  intreating  the  king,  and  other  principal 
perfonages  of  the  royal  family,  to  take  upon  them  the 
proteclion  of  her  fon  and  daughter,  and  to  allow  them 
the  free  exercife  of  their  religion. 

She  next  requeued  that  fhe  might  have  about  lier  fuit- 
able perfons  to  pray  with  her,  andto  adminifter  con- 
folations  from  the  word  of  God.  On  a  minifter's  com- 
ing in  and  fuggefiing  to  her  the  obligations  to  fubmif- 
fion,  and  the  merciful  defign  of  God  in  affliding  his 
children,  ihe  replied  :  **  I  take  all  this  as  fent  from 
the  hand  of  God  my  mod  merciful  Father.  Nor  have 
I,  during  this  extremity,  been  afraid  to  die;  much 
lefs  have  I  murmured  againlf  God  for.  inflicting  this 
chaftifement  upon  me,  knowing  that  whatever  he  does, 
he  fo  orders  it,  that  in  the  end  it  Ihall  turn  to  my  ev- 
erlafting  good.  As  for  this  life,"  (he  added,  **  I  ara 
in  a  good  meafure   v/eaned  from  it,   through  the  af- 

hitilons 


JANE,  Queen   of  Navarre.  43 

fi'ctions  which  have  followed  me  from  my  youth  to 
the  prefeni  hour  ;  but  cfpccially  becaufel  cannot  live 
without  offending  my  God,  with  whom  1  dcfire  to  be 
with  all  my  heart." 

The  miniftcr  having  remarked  that  life  was  a  blef- 
fm,2:,  as  it  afforded  opportunity  to  promote  the  divine 
glory,  and  rcquefted  her  to  pray,  that  if  it  were  the 
will  of  God,  he  would  employ  her  ftill  longer  in  his 
fervicc,  for  the  furthcir  fprtud  of  the  gofpel,  flie  repli- 
ed that  *  as  to  what  concerned  hcrfelf,  her  lite  was  not 
d^ar  to  her,  fince  ft  long  as  llie  lived  in  this  frail  flefh, 
file  was  dill  prone  to  finagaiufl  God  ;  only,'  fhe  faid, 
*  Ihe  had  a  concern  for  the  children  whom  God  had 
ijiven  her  ;  as,  if  fhe  were  now  to  die,  they  would  be 
deprived  of  her  in  their  early  years.  Yet,'  faid  {he, 
'I  doubt  nor,  though  he  (liould  fee  fit  totakemefrom 
them,  that  he  himfelf  will  be  a  Falh.er  and  Protccloi* 
to  them,  as  I  have  ever  experienced  him  to  be  to  mc, 
in  my  greateil  afdiclions  ;  and  therefore  I  commit  thcin 
wholly  to  his  government  and  fatherly  care.'  After- 
ward (he  added  that  *  death  was  not  terribletoher.be- 
caufe  it  was  the  way  to  pafs  to  lier  eternal  reft.' 

The  minifter  admonilhing  her  to  make  cojifeiljon 
of  her  fins  before  God,  the  queen,  with  her  hands  and 
eyes  lifted  up  to  heaven,  acknowledged,  that  *  tf.e  fins 
ihe  had  committed  againft  the  Lord  were  innumcra- 
])le,  and  m  ire  than  ihe  could  reckon  up  ;  but  yet  that 
ilie  hoped  that  God  lor  Chriit's  fake,  in  whom  flic 
put    her  whole  truft,  would  be  merciful  to  her.' 

The  miniilcr  afking  her  whether  flie  verily  beUev- 
cd  in  Chrilt  as  a  Savior,  and  ex  peeled  forgiveiiefs  of 
ilns  through  th-e  (bedding  of  his  blood — "Yes,  flie  re^ 
plied,  **  1  do  ;  believing  that  he  is  my  only  Savior  and 
Mediator  ;  and  I  look  lor  falvation  from  none  other, 
knowing  that  he  liath  abundantly  fatisfied  for  the  fins 
of  his  people, and  therefore  I  r.m  alfured  that  Gcd  for 
his  fake,  according  to  his  gracious  promife  in  him, 
vill  have  mercy  en  mc."  J)uring 


44  Memoirs  of 

During  her  ficknefs,  the  fteadfaftnefs  of  her  faith 
and  hope  imparted  ferenity  and  cheerfulnefs  to  her 
very  countenance.  Her  pains,  though  fometimes  very 
fevere,  extorted  not  a  word  that  bordered  on  impa- 
tience, and  fcarcely  at  any  time  fo  much  as  a  groan;. 
She  fpent  much  of  her  time  in  hearing  the  pious  ex- 
hortations and  prayers  of  godly  men  who  came  to  vifit 
her,  in  which^lhe  took  great  delight.  With  thefe 
file  mingled  much  edifying  difcourfe  of  her  own,ex- 
preOifig  not  unfrequently  her  earneft  deflre  to  depart 
and  be  with  Chrilt  and  uttering  her  afpirations  in 
fuch  words  as  thefe  :  "  O  my  Gud,  in  thy  due  time, 
deliver  me  from  this  body  of  death,  and  from  the 
miferies  of  the  prefent  life,  that  I  may  no  more  offend 
thee,  and  that  1  may  attain  to  that  felicity  which 
thou  in  thy  word  hart  promifed  to  beftow  upon  me." 
Yet  if  at  any  time,  Hie  perceived  an  abatement  of  the 
violence  of  her  diftemper,  (he  exprelied  her  willing- 
nefs  to  obtain  the  recovery  of  her  former  health  ;ncr 
did  fherefufe  any  means  prefcribed  by  her  phyficians 
for  this  purpofe. 

When  file  faw  the  ladies  with  her  weeping  about 
her  bed,  flie  blamed  them,  faying,  **  I  pray  yoir  do 
not  weep  for  me,  fince  God  by  this  ficknefs  calls  me 
to  the  enjoyment  of  a  better  life. 1  am  now  en- 
tering the  defired  haven  towards  which  this  frail  vefiel 
has  been  fo  long  fteering." 

The  greater  part  of  the  night  before  l^er  death  was 
fpent  in  hearing  paffages  from  the  bible,  fuitedto 
her  (late,  with  the  difcourfe  and  prayers  of  her  minif- 
ters.  She  enjoyed  her  fpeech  and  reafon  perfe<f{:ly  to 
the  laft.  Being  afked  by  one  of  the  minifters,  not 
long  before  her  diifolutivn,  whether  fhe  v/as  willing 
to  goto  Chrift:  *'Yes,  I  affiire  you,"  faid  Ihe  : 
**  much  more  willing  than  to  linger  here  below  in 
this  v/orid,  where  1  fee  nothing  but  vanity." 

Thus  fnc  fweetly  yielded  up  her  fpirit  into  the 
hands  of  God,  June  9,  1572,  in  the  44th  vf..-  •  1 
her  age. 


Jane,  Qjjeen  of  Navarre.  45 

We  clofe  the  memoirs  of  this  excellent  cneen  Avitli 
■^the  following  remarks  of  Bifhop  }3urnet.  '**  IF  Jane 
of  Navarre  had  had  a  larger  fphere,  fhe  was  indeed 
a  perfect  pattern.  Nothing  was  ever  fuggefted  to  hC- 
fen  her,  but  that  which  was  her  true  glory,  her  receiv^- 
rng  the  Reformation.  She  both  received  it,  and 
brought  her  fubjefts  to  it.  She  not  only  reformed 
her  court,  but  her  whole  principality,  to  fuch  a  dej^rec, 
that  the  golden  age  feemed  to  have  returned  mider 
her  ;  or  rather  Chriiiianlty  appeared  again  with  the 
purity  and  luftre  of  its  nrff  beginnings.  Nor  is  there 
one  (ingle  abatement  to  be  made  her.  Only  her  prin- 
cipality was  narrow.  Her  dominion  was  fo  little  ex- 
tended, that  though  fhe  had  the  rank  and  dignity  of  a 
queen,  yet  it  looked  rather  like  the  fhadow  than  the 
reality  of  fovereignty  ;  or  rather,rit  was  fovereignty 
iji  miniature  :  though  the  colors  were  bright,  it  was 
of  the  fmalleft  form." 


MARY,  QUEEN  of  GREAT  BRITAIN, 
Wife  of  King  William  III. 


s 


^HE  was  daughter  to  James  II.  b«rn  April 

^•62,   and    married    November    1677,    to  William, 
rrinc©  of  Orange,  afterward  King  William  III. 

Her  body  was  the  beautiful  temple  of  a  fairer  foul. 
Her   prcfencc   infpired   reverence  in    thofe  who  fart- 
her, and  feemed  to  mark  her  cut  for  empire  ;  while 
B  her 


^6  Memoirs  of 

her  f-.veet  r.nd  graceful  countefiance  was  calculated  t© 
render  majekly  amiable  and  attractive. 

She  exhibited  very  early  fymptoms  cf  a  mofl  hap- 
py difpofition.  She  was  kiiid  and  gentle  before  fhe 
Avas  capable  of  knowing  that  it  was  her  duty  to  be  fo. 
This  amiable  temper  grew  up  with  her  ;  and  it  is 
faid  that  in  the  whole  courfe  of  her  education,  fhe 
never  gave  occation  for  reproof. 

Very  early  in  youth,  (he  removed  from  her  own 
country  into  Holland.  But  fhe  went  under  the  guard 
of  fomuch  difcretlon,  faeijyas  fo  gentle  and  obliging 
in  her  deportment,  fo  charitable  and  ccmpafTionatc, 
indeed  fo  univerfally  exemplary,  that  fhe  attraclt  1 
the  efleem  and  love  of  all  ranks  of  people  in  tr 
United  Provinces.  Their  affection  bordered  on  rap- 
ture :  and  their  veneration,  though  much  was  due, 
feemed  rather  excefEve. 

Though  both  her  parents  imbibed  the  Po pirn  re- 
ligion, Cie  was  a  Proteftant  on  principle  :  and  when 
\hi  king,  her  father,  wrote  her  a  letter  in  favor  of 
Popery,  fhe  returned  him  an  anfwer  to  the  following 
purpofe  :  that  '  Ihe  had  taken  much  pains  to  be  fet- 
tled in  religion  :  that  her  inflru£tors  had  freely  laid 
beiore  her  that  which  was  good  in  the  Romiih,  that 
fo,  according  to  the  ApofV»^'s  rule,  fhe  might  prcve 
eiU  t kings ^  2nd  hzU  fafi  that  which  ^as  g'jcd  :  that 
though  ihe  had  come  young  from  England,  fhe  had 
net  left  behind  her  either  the  defire  or  the  means  of 
the  beft  information:  that  fhe  faw  clearly  in  the  fcrip- 
rures,  ihe  mufl  work  cut  her  own  f civ  at  ion  ivith  fear 
andtremhlzng  ;  and  not  believe  bv  the  faith  of  anoth- 
er, but  as  things  appeared  to  herfelf :  that  it  ought  to 
2)e  no  prejudice  agai^iil  the  Reformation,  that  many 
■who  profeiTed  it  led  ill  lives,  for  none  of  the  princi- 
ples ot  their  religion  allowed  them  in  it  :  that  many 
jC'f  them  led  good  lives,  and  more  might  do  it  by  the 
£race  of  Gad  :  that  there  were  many  devotions  of 
the  church  cf  Rome  on  which  the  refyrmed  cc^iXA  W. 

r.o 


fiO  value.  She  acknowledged  Indeed,  fhat  if  there^ 
was  aa  infallibility  in  the  church,  all  orher  coctro- 
verfies  nfiuil  fall  to  the  ground  ;  but  declared  that  llie 
could  never  yet  learn  where  that  infallibiiity  was 
laiged  ;  whether  in  the  Pope  alone,  or  a  general  Ctuz- 
c'lU  or  bolh  :  and  fbe  dtiirer!  to  knov,-  in  v/bom  It 
relied  when  there  were  two  or  three  Popes  at  a  time, 
acting  one  againd  another,  with  the  aiStancc  oiC.u:- 
cili  which  they  called  general;  for  at  leaiT,  the  {\:.c- 
ceiiion  was  then  much  difordered.  She  obferred,  in 
regard  to  the  authority  fuppofed  to  be  given  to  St. 
Peter  over  the  rell,  that  the  pa  Jage  chieSy  alleged  for 
:*  John  21.  17.J  was  othenvife  interpreted  by  thGr;2 
f  the  church  of  England,  as  importing  oniy  the  con- 
rmation  of  an  Apoftle,  when,  in  anfwer  to  the  qoef- 
.on,  Simor,,  f'^n  of  '^jnas,  l-jvefi  thuume  ^  he  had  bv 
a  triple  confcllion,  waihed  off  his  triple  denial  :  that 
the  words  which  the  king  had  cited,  were  fpoken  to 
the  other  Apollles,  as  weil  as  Peter  :  that  the  infalU- 
bllity  communicated  to  the  Apofllcs,  was  a  gift 
rhich  had  ceafed  long  ago  :  thtJt  St.  Peter  had  nc  au- 
thority over  the  reH  ;  otherwife  St.  Paul  ill  unde ril^ooii 
oui  Lord  5  words,  who  wlthji^zd  St,  Peter  ts  bis  face, 
hecauje  be  -ucas  /;  le  hlair^d  :  and  that  if  St.  Peter 
himfelf  could  not  maintain  that  authority,  {he  cotli 
not  fee  how  it  could  be  given  to  his  degenerate  fuc- 
oelTjrs.  She  alleged  that  the  ill  ufe  which  fome  made 
f  the  fcrlptures  was  no  fufEcient  reafon  fcr  depriv- 
ing others  of  them  :  that  though  it  was  true  that  all 
fe<35  found  fomething  in  them  which  they  ufcd  to 
fupport  their  opinions,  yet  cur  Savior  bade  the  Jews* 
jearch  the  [cr'iptures  :  ihat  St.  Paul  ordered  his  Epif- 
tles  to  be  read  to  all  the  faints  in  the  churches  ;  f."  - 
ing.  in  one  paiTage,  /  ivrlfe  as  fs  uife  men  ;  Jif  \^:' 
:t'?j/  I  f^y  :  and  that  if  they  might  judge  an  Apoitle, 
much  more,  any  other  teacher.  Srte  cbferved,  thar 
under  the^law  of  Mofes,  the  Old  Teilament  was  td 
be  read  in  the  hearing  r.ct  orJy  cf  the  Scribes  and 

Dodors^ 


4S  Memoirs  of 

Doctor?,  but  of  the  women  and  children  :  that  fince^ 
Gcd  has  made  us  reafonable  creatures,  our  reafoii 
ought  chiefly  to  be  employed  in  things  of  the  greatefi: 
concern  :  that  though  taith  was  above  reafcn,  it  pro- 
•pofed  nothing  contr?di6^ory  to  it  :  that  every  one 
ought  to  fatisty  himfelf  in  thefe  things,  as  our  Savior 
convinced  Thomas,  by  making  him  thrufl:  his  hand 
3nto  the  print  ot  the  nails,  not  leaving  him  to  the  tef- 
mony  of  the  other  Apoftles  already  convinced.  She 
udded  her  confidence  that  the  king  had  many  fubjects 
-iho,  if  he  would  hear  them,  v/ould  fully  remove  his. 
prejudices  againft  the  Reformation,  the  defign.  of 
v/hich  was  to  feparate  from  the  church  of  Rome,  fo 
far  as  it  had  feparated  from  xh^  primitive  church.  I  a 
conclufion,  flie  exprefTed  her  hope  that,  by  the  grace 
of  God,  fhe  inould  abide  through  life  in  that  religion 
the  grounds  of  which  fhe  had  thus  ftated  ;  and  her 
rjJurance  that  the  gates  cf  hell pjoiildfiot  prevail  againfi 
it,  but  that  Q''^x\]\.  would  be  with  it  to  the  end  cf  the 
'ivorld :  adding  that  as  it  taught  her  her  duty  to  him, 
fhe  ihould  ever  be  his  moll:  obedient  daughter  and  fi;r- 
vant.' 

The  intelligence  and  fxrmncfs  difplayed  in  this  let- 
ter, which  v/as  written  without  aflz.iunce,  and  with 
little  premeditation,  difcouragedjand  in  great  meafure 
rrecliidsd,  future  folicitations  on  the  fubjed  of  lier 
religion. 

Having  lived  feveral  years  in  Holland,  the  ornament 
cf  her  frjx  and  ftation,  fhe  received,  in  conjunction 
\vith  herhufband,  from  both  houfes  of  Parliament,  an 
invitation  to  the  Britilli  throne.  They  were  accord- 
ingly proclaimed  king  and  queen,  A.  D.  1688:  an 
event  v/hich  inEnglllh  hiifory  is  uyled//-'^  Revolution. 

To  this  highly  important  meafure  her  confent  was 
r.ot  gained,  but  after  much  furious  deliberation,  and 
much  painful  relu6lance.  Royalty  had  no  charms  for 
her.  The  throne  to  which  ihe  was  invited,  her  father, 
©n  account  of  his  arbitrary  condufl,  2^x1^  bigotted  at- 
tachment 


Mary,  Queen  of  Great  Britah:.        a-) 

tachment  to  Popery,  had  been  necefTitated  to  abdicate  : 
and  the  thought  ot  poiTefling  it  \vhile  he  furvived  was 
fcarccly  fupportable.  She  was  fully  fenfible  t}:at  net 
only  her  own  reputation  would  be  hazarded,  but  that 
religion  too  might  fuffer  in  the  reproaches  which  (he 
might  expe(5l.  Yet  (he  could  not  but  be  apprized  that 
the  goo«d  of  mankind,  the  prefervation  of  that  religioa 
which  Ihe  was  was  convinced  was  the  true,  and  the 
extremities  to  which  things  were  now  brcught,  called 
loudly  for  her  acceptance.  She  had  generous  ideas  cvt 
liberty,  and  ct  the  ends  of  government.  She  thought 
it  dsfigned  not  to  aggrandize  thole  to  whom  it  was 
committed,  but  to  make  mankind  fafe  and  happv.  She 
felt  that  no  people  ought  to  have  a  religion  impofed  en 
them  by  the  caprice  or  bigotry  of  a  prince.  Thou'?!! 
very  dillant  from  enihufiafm,  llie  could  not  but  note 
fome  (Irong  indications  of  a  divine  interpofition  ia 
thofe  events  which  conduclcd  her  to  the  crown. 
When  by  thefc  confiderations  her  mind  was  finally  de- 
termined, her  feelings  ftill  revolted  :  and  while  fhe  en- 
deavored to  bear  her  dignity  with  apparent  faiisfadion, 
her  heart  was  oppreH:,  almoft  to  linking. 

Not  only  did  a  fenfe  of  religion  and  duty  op-':rate  ia 
this  great  rtep  of  life,  of  fuch  moment  to  herftlf,  and 
benefit  to  the  world,  but  her  habitual  deportment  and 
conducl  gave  ample  evidence  of  extraordinary  piei\. 
Her  converfation  was  in  heaven.  Her  iifewas  a  life 
of  communion  with  God.  She  was  punclually  exact 
in  her  attention  not  only  to  the  ptiblic  offices  of  relig- 
ion, but  to  the  exercifcs  of  fecret  devotion.  No  bufi- 
nefs,  no  journies,  were  ever  fufFcred  to  fuperfede,  or 
materially  to  curtail,  the  duties  of  the  cloftt.  If  ne- 
ceilary,  they  were  anticipated  ;  but  never  negle£led> 
She  judged  that  the  ble fling  of  the  whole  day  turned 
upon  them. 

She  religioufly  obferved  the  Lord's  day  ;    on  which 
fhe  attended  the  public  worlhip  of  God  thrice,  and  of^ 
Wn  four  times.     She  was  coiutant  in  her  monthly  at« 
E-  ^  tendaiice 


50  Memoirs  of 

tendance  at  the  Sacrament,  and  particularly  attentive 
to  her  preparations  for  this  ordinance  ;  ufually  devot- 
iflg  the  preceding  day  to  prayer  and  fading. 

In  the  public  worihip  of  God,fhe  was  a  bright  ex- 
ample of  folemn,  unafftded  devotion.  Her  whole 
foul  was  intent  and  engaged  ;  nor  was  a  fingle  glance 
allowed  for  obfervation.  She  loft  herfelf  in  the  majef- 
ty  of  the  King  of  kings.  So  remarkable  v/as  her  grav- 
ity and  reverence,  that  Ihe  feemed  to  fpread  the  fpirit 
of  devotion  around  her  ;  though  few  of  her  fellow- 
wcrihippers  attained  to  fuch  a  ferioufnefs  cf  applica- 
tion as  they  beheld  in  her. 

Heir  attention  to  fermons  was  fo  fixed  that,  as  her 
eye  never  wandered  from  a  good  preacher,  fo  (he  dif- 
covered  no  uneafmefs  in  hearing  an  indifferent  one. 
When  afked  how  fhe  could  be  fo  attentive  to  fermons 
of  very  inferior  merit,  fhe  would  reply,  that  *  ihe 
thought  it  did  not  become  her  by  any  part  of  her  be- 
havior to  difcourage,  or  even  feem  to  diilike,  one  who 
was  doing  hisbeft."  She  was  very  ready  to  beftow  com- 
mendation where  it  was  merited  :  and  lier  hardeft  cen- 
fure  of  the  pooreft  preachers  was  to  fay  nothing  to  their 
advantage.  She  endeavored  to  diffufe  a  fpirit  of  piety 
into  all  who  came  near  her,  efpecialiy  thofe  under  her 
immediate  care,  whom  llie  inftruded  and  admonifhed 
with  all  thelove  and  watchfulnefs  of  a  mother.  She  dif- 
perfedgood  books  to  all  around  her  ;  and  frequently  or- 
dered them  to  be  laid  in  places  of  attendance,  that  fuch 
as  waited  might  not  be  condemned  to  idlenefs,  but  have 
both inftruClion  and  entertainment  within  their  reach. 

She  was  anxious  to  raife  the  reputation  and  author- 
ity of  the  clergy,  as  the  principal  mean  of  advancing 
religion.  Confcious  that  this  could  be  efFecled  only 
by  engaging  them  to  be  exemplary  in  their  lives  and 
abundant  in  their  labors,  to  watch  over  their  flocks, 
and  edify  them  by  good  preaching  and  diligent  cate- 
chiling,  fhe  was  refolved  to  have  it  known  that  thcfe 
were  the  only  methods  by  which  divines  could  be  rec- 
ommended 


Mary,  QuEfiN  OP  Great  Britajn.       52 

ommeflded  to  favor.  When  church  preferments  v/ere 
to  be  difpofed  of,  Ihe  confidered  the  right  difpofiticn 
of  them  as  a  capital  objedl  of  her  care.  She  charged 
thofe  in  whom  ihe  had  the  greateft  confidence,  to  look 
out  the  beft  men  and  beit  preachers,  and  make  them 
known.  When  ihe  apprehended  them  to  be  biaHed 
by  friendfhip,  fhe  intimated  it  with  an  authority  which 
became  her.^  She  could  firmly  deny  the  mod  earneft 
iolicitations  when  fhe  thought  the  perfon  for  whom, 
they  were  made,  unworthy  of  them.  But  fhe  did  this 
with  fuch  foftnefs,  and  fogood  reafons,  that  the  repulf-- 
ed  could  not  but  confefs  that  fhe  was  in  the  right,  ev- 
en while  they  wifhed  perhaps  that  for  once  Ibe  had:- 
been  in  the  wrong. 

She  v/as  grieved  to  hear  of  the  low  condition  of  ma-> 
ny  of  the  Englifh  churches.  She  formed  plans  to  laifo 
them  up,  and  afford  dwe  encouragement  to  their  min- 
ifters.  Pluralities  and  non-rfftdeticey  when  not  abfo- 
lately  necedary,  v  ere  odious  to  herfelf,  and  fhe  endea- 
vored to  render  them  fo  much  fo  to  others,  as  fhould 
fupprefs  the  practices  of  thofe  who  undertook  the  care 
of  fouls  for  v/hich  they  neither  watched  nor  labored. 
In  a  difcourfeon  the  fubjed,  the  day  before  fhe  was 
feized  with  her  fatal  difeafe,  flie  faid,  **  She  had  no 
great  hopes  of  redifying  matters,  but  was  refolved  to 
go  on,  and  not  fuffer  herfelf  to  be  difcouraged.  She 
v/ould  ftill  try  what  could  be  done,  and  purfue  her  de- 
flgn,  however  flow  and  infenfible  its  progrefs  might  be.' 

She  was  fincerely  zetilous  for  healing  religious  divi- 
fions  ;  and  declared  her  refolurion,  on  thefirll:  addrefs 
of  fome  miniftersjto  ufe  all  means  for  that  bleffed  end. 
She  well  underllood  the  difference  between  doctrines 
and  rituals,  and  allowed  a  juft  liberty  for  difienting  in 
things  of  fmall  moment.  She  was  fettered  with  nofu- 
perftitious  fcruples,' ut  her  free  fpirit  v/as  for  the  uniori 
of  all  thofe  who  embraced  the  efumtials  of  Cliriliianity, 

No  intimation  was  ever  let  fall  in  her  prefence,  of- 
fering a  probable  mean  of  rcfcrmation y^'\\ic\i  was  loft 

by 


5:2-         -  Memoirs  0?" 

by  her.  She  would  call  upon  perfons  who  fuggeiTedf 
any  thing  of  this  kind,  to  turn  the  matter  over  and  or- 
er  again, till  flie  had  matured  her  thoughts  concerning  iV, 
It  was  furpriling  to  fee  how  well  flie  undcrflood  fuch 
things,  and  how  zealous  fbe  was  in  promoting  them. 

She  rightly  judged  that  the  true  end  of  power,  and 
the  beft  excrcife  of  it,  was  to  do  good,  and  to  make  the 
world  better.  She  often  faid,  fhe  found  nothing  could 
make  lifuppo-iiabki  not  to  fay  pleafant,beiide  this  ob- 
ject ;  and  Ibe  wondered  that  the  true  pleafure  attend- 
ing it,  did  not  engage  princes  to  pudue  it  more  ar- 
dently. She  encouraged  thofe  who  were  frequently 
with  her,  to  lay  before  her  every  occafion  of  doing 
good  that  might  occur  to  their  thoughts,  and  was  al- 
ways pleafed  when  fuch  opportunities  were  prefented. 
She  even  charged  the  confciences  of  fome  with  a  ccin- 
viand  to  keep  nothing  of  this  kind  from  her,  which  it 
w^as  proper  ibe  fhould  be  acquainted  with. 

Never  was  miftrefs  both  feared  and  loved  fo  entire)}'" 
as  (he  was.  She  charmed  her  dbmeftics  with  her  iri- 
ffruclions,  and  won  them  by  her  kindnefs.  Indeed  ^\(^ 
delighted  all  who  knew  her  by  the  obliging  tenderncfs 
of  her  deportment,  ohe  foftened  the  affli6lions  of  the 
unhappy,  by  the  Iharefhe  took  in  them  ;  and  miniftcr- 
cd  to  the  ntcellities  of  the  indigent.-  It  was  eafy  toi 
her  to  reward, but  hard  to  puni(h,uniers  the  nature  of  the 
crime  rendered  mercy  a  cruelty.  Then  fiie  was  inflexi- 
ble,not  only  to  importunity, but  to  her  own  tendernefs. 

The  fphere  which  Providence  allotted  for  her  boun- 
ty and  compadion'  was  extenfive  :  but  larger  flill  was 
her  heart,'  Thofe  worthy  confeflbrs  whom  the  perfe- 
cution  of  France  banifhed  to  England,  and  to  the  Unit- 
ed Provinces,  felt  her  munihcence.  Multitudes  who 
fled  for  Ihelter  from^the  confuficns  of  Irehnd,  reduc- 
ed from  affluence  to  want,  had  their  exile  mitigated, 
and  their  exigencies  relieved,  by  her  compaflion.  The 
fame  relief  was  liberally  difpenfed  to  the  miferable  at 
liome,  efpecialiy  fuch  as  fufFered  by-  the  cafualties-of 

war.- 


Mary,  Queen  OF  Grsat  Britain.        53 

war.     She  was  particularly  attentive  to  difcover  and 
fupply  tiie  neccffities  of  perfons  of  fingular  merit. 

Inaclsof  this  kind,  there  was  often  difphtyed  a 
greatnefs  of  foul  which  feemed  to  render  munific&nce 
itfelf  more  generous,  A  nobleman  of  great  piety  hav- 
ing once  propofed  to  her  a  good  work  which  was  fome- 
what  expenfivc,  and  fhe  having  ordered  a  hundred 
pounds  tor  the  purpofe,  it  fo  happened,  that  a  confid- 
crable  time  intervened  before  the  fum  was  received. 
The  nobleman  waited  on  the  queen,  ai^d  pleafantly 
remarked  that  interefl  was  due  for  the  delay  of  pay- 
ment :  on  which  Ihe  immediately  ordered  that  fifty 
pounds  fliould  be  added.. 

The  largencfs  of  her  charity  neccfiltated  her  to  be 
very  attentive  and  exa6l  in  itsdiftribution.  She  found 
that  even  a  royal  treafury  could  not  anfvvcr  all  demands. 
Hence  fhe  took  care  to  obtain  accurate  accounts  both 
of  the  necedities  and  merits  of  the  candidates  for  her 
liberality;  and  in  difpenfmg  it,  difplayed  as  much 
memory,  judgment  and  diligence,  as  if  flie  had  no 
cares  of  a  different  nature. 

Amid  all,  fhe  was  very  diftant  from  odentation. 
She  manifefted  no  difpofition  to  difplay  herjelf ;  no 
delight  in  commendation.  Even  when  due  acknowl- 
edgments v/ere  made,  or  juft  praife  given,  they  feemed 
fcarce  to  be  heard  ;  and  never  were  anfvv-ered  in  {wah 
a  wav*as  remotely  tended  to  protracl  the  difcourfe. 
She  pad  from  it  to  other  fubje(Sl:s,  as  though  (he  could 
not  bear  it.  In  her  were  feen  the  mod  adive  zeal  for 
the  public,  and  conftant  delight  in  doing  good,  joined 
with  fuch  unaffe£led  humility  and  indifference  to  ap- 
plaufe,  that  the  mod  critical  obfervers  could  fee  no 
rtafon  to  think  that  the  fecret  flatteries  of  vanity  and 
felf-love  had  any  influence  over  her. 

Indeed  her  charities  were  condu£led  with  the  great- 
cd  poffible  fecrccy.  None  knew  what  ^t  gave,  or  to. 
whom,  but  thoie  whom  fhe  was  nectlTitated  to  employ 
in  the  communication,  of  her  bounty  :  and  they  were. 

imdey- 


54- 


Memoirs  Of* 


under  injimcllonsof  filence.  When  it  was  practicable^ 
her  own  hand  was  the  conveyance.  So  far  was  ihc 
from  fpeaking  of  her  charities,  that  when  in  her  pre- 
fence,  Tome  were  mentioned  as  objecis,  whom  (he  had" 
already  relieved,  ihegave  no  intimation  of  what  had 
been  djne,  though  if  the  neceiTity  appeared  greater 
than  the  had  apprehended,  a  new  fupply  was  given. 

Her  extraordinary  pietv,  while  it  alleviated  many- 
of  her  troubles,  gave  a  fiing  to  others.  She  enter- 
tained, and  often  exprelied,  a  painful  {enie  of  the 
judgments  which  feemed  hanging  over  the  nation. 
The  impieties  and  blafphemies,  the  open  contempt  of 
religion  and  virtue,  of  which  (he  heard  from  many 
pruts,  filled  her  v/ith  melancholy  reflexions,  and  pre- 
fented  lo  her  mind  a  dark  profped.  She  was  peculi- 
arly pained,  when  ih^  heard  that  fome  who  pretend-- 
ed  much  zeal  for  the  crovvnand  the  Revolution,  feem- 
ed  to  think  that  thence  they  derived  a  kind  of  right 
to  indulgence  in  their  irregularity  and  Hcentioufnefs. 
*'  Can  a  blefTrng  be  expe£led,"  file  would  fay,  "  from 
fuch  hands,  or  any  thing  that  murtpafs  through  themr"' 
She  longed  to  fee  a  fet  of  men  of  probity  and  public  fpir- 
it,  with  whom  the  concerns  ot  the  crown  and  people 
might  be  lodged  with  reafonable  hopes  of  fuccefs,  and' 
of  the  blelling  of  heaven  on  their  fervlces.  She  had 
a  high  eldeem  of  all  whom  fhe  found  truly  virtuous 
and  religious;  nor  couldany  other  confiderations  weigh, 
much  with  her,  where  thefe  excellencies  were  want- 
ing. Next  t)  open  impiety,  the  want  of  life  and  zeal 
in'the  profelTors  of  religion,  and  the  general  coldneis 
an^d  difunion  of  the  Proteilants,  fenfibly  affected  her. 
With  much  feeling  (he  would  often  fay,  "  Can  fuel? 
dry  bones  live  P''' — When  fhe  heard  what  crying  fins 
abounded  in  the  Britifh  fleets  and  armies,  ihe  gave 
Aich  dire6lions  as  feem.ed  practicable,  to  thofe  who 
might  have  influence  to  correal  them.  She  frequent- 
ly intimated  to  perfons  in  eminent  ftations,  that  noth- 
m^  could  gratify  and  oblige  her  more,  than  that  carer 

ihoulcL 


Mary,  Queen  of  Great  Britain.       55 

fhould  be  taken  to  (lop  thofe  growing  diforders,  and 
reduce  things  to  the  rerioufners  and  fobriety  of  fc^rm- 
er  tiine?-.  Her  lall:  great  project  related  to  a  royal 
proviiioH  for  maimed  and  decayed  fcaircn  ;  a  capital 
object:  of  which  was  to  put  them  in  a  probable  way 
to  conclude  their  days  in  the  fear  of  God.  It  gave 
her  feniible  pain  to  hear  that  Ireland  v/as  fcarce  em- 
erged from  its  miferies,  before  it  was  returning  to 
the  levities,  and  even  abominations  of  farmer  times. 
She  informed  herfelf  particularly  into  the  Itate  of  tlie 
Britilh  plantations,  and  of  their  colonies  among  infi- 
dels. It  grieved  her  to  hear  that  thofe  colonies  were 
too  generally  a  reproach  to  Chrilfianity.  She  adop- 
ted apropofition  made  for  ereding  fchools,  and  tound- 
ing  a  College  among  them.  For  the  latter,  fhe  pro- 
vided a  noble  endowment,  of  which  fhe  prefented  a 
fcheme,  thoroughly  digefted,  to  the  king.  Nothing 
was  m.cre  agreeable  to  her  than  the  profpe6l  of  ad- 
vancing^ religion,  efpecially  am.ong  infidels. 

Her  attention  and  mtmificence  were  extended  to 
foreign  churches.  The  fcattcred  remains  of  tlve  Pro- 
teffants  who  had  been  hunted  out  of  their  vallies  in 
Piedmont,  were,  by  her  charity  embodied  and  rever- 
ed. What  was  left  of'  the  Bohemian  churches  fhe 
preferVed  :  and  fae  formed  nurferies  of  religion  in 
fome  parts  of  Germany  which  were  cxhauiled  by 
war. 

Of  time,  file  was  a  mofl  diligent  improver.  She 
conlidered  her  glafs  as  continuallv  running,  and  every 
fand  to  be  accounted  for.  She  viewed  idlcncfs  as  the 
great  corrupter  of  human  nature;  and  believed  that 
the  mind  which  had  no  employment  would  create  it- 
felf  the  word.  When  therefore  her  eyes  were  weaken- 
edby  exceflive  reading,  llierefortedto  work,  which  (lie 
piirfued  with  as  much  dilligence  as  if  her  labor  were 
her  fupport.  While  thus  employed,  (he  took  care  to 
furnidi  entertainment,  at  once  for  herfelf,  and  thofe 
who  had  the  honor  to  work  with  her.  One  was  ap- 
pointed 


56  Memoirs  ob 

apointed  to  read  to  ihe  reil    fomething  lively  as   weH 
as  inilriidive. 

Few  or  her  fex,  "^not  to  fay  of  her  rank,  ever  gave 
lefs  time  to  drefs,  or  leemed  lefs  curious  about  it. 
While  the  more  tedious  parts  oi  it  were  attended  to, 
fhe  cor.jftantly  read  herfelf,  and  generally  aloud,  that 
thofe  who  ferved  about  her,  might  be  the  better  for  it; 
and  mingled  fuch  reflections,  that  the  comment  was 
often  better  than  the  text.  Thus  the  hours  of  clofe 
attendance,  which  in  moft  courts,  are  the  heavieft  part 
of  the  day,  were  in  hers  the  moft  delighttuL 

She  polleffed  a  native  fincerity,  which  appeared  in 
fuch  genuine  characters  as  fully  convinced  every  one 
that  ail  vv^s  uniform  and  confiltent.  She  never  bor- 
rowed afTiilance  from  thofe  arts  fo  common  to  elevat- 
ed ftations,  as  by  fome  to  be  imagined  necelTary.  She 
never  covered  her  purpofes  by  doubtful  expreffions. 
She  not  only  would  not  be  active  in  deceiving  others, 
but  avoided'faying  that  which  might  give  them  occa- 
sion to  deceive  themfelves  ;  and  when  ilie  did  not  in- 
tend to  promife,  took  care  to  explain  her  meaning  fo 
critically,  that  nothing  of  the  kind  was  fo  much  as  in- 
timated. To  this  rigidnefs  of  integrity  it  was  owing, 
that  in  a  courfe  of  feveral  years,  flie  did  not  once  need 
an  explanation  to  juftify  either  her  words  or  adions. 

The  franknefs  of  her  mind  and  conduct  was  chaft- 
cned  by  the  itri6teft  difcretion.  Thofe  who  knew  her 
beft,  and  faw  her  ofteneft,  could  never  difcover  her 
thoughts  and  intentions  further  than  fne  chofe.  No 
half-word,  or  change  of  look,  drev/  any  thing  from 
her  which  fhe  did  not  mean  to  impart.  This  caution, 
which  in  moft  might  be  unneceifary  and  improper, 
was  in  her  indifpenfable.  It  was  no  other  than  the 
xeferve  demanded  by  her  exalted  (tation,  and  the  mo- 
mentous affairs  with  which  (he  was  converfant. 

She  was  remarkably  diftant  from  pride  ;  nor  lefs  fo 
from  patlion.  Her  fercne  countenance  was  a  chryftal, 
"^vhich  difcovercd  the  tran(juility  within.     Her  bread 

■yv  as 


Mary,  QuEE^7  ot  Great  Britain,        57 

%«-as  like  the  Tea,  when  unruffled  by  fomuch  as  a  trnn- 
fient  breeze.  The  modefly  and  fanftiry  cf  her  mind 
were  fo  undiflTcmWed  and  uniform,  that  nothing  im- 
pure dared  approach  her  prefence. 

No  natural  defe6ts,  nor  faults  of  chara£ler  were  ev- 
er the  fubje6ts  of  her  mirth  ;  nor  could  fhe  bear  it  in 
others,  if  wit  happened  to  glance  on  fiich  topics.  She 
thought  it  cruel  and  barbarous  to  be  merry  at  the  mif- 
forlunes  or  follies  cf  orhersc  She  was  fmgubrly  pleaf- 
cd  with  the  fermon  cf  Archbifhop  Tillotfon  againit 
Evil-fpeaking  ;  and  when  fhe  thought  fome  were  guil- 
ty of  it,  flic  would  ind^ireclly  reprehend  them  by  aflc- 
?ng,  if  they  had  read  t/iat  fermon. 

As  fne  uttered  no  cenfures  lierfelf,  flie  was  remark:- 
ably  exempt  from  ihofe  of  others.  On  being  remind- 
ed of  this  felicity,  fhe  faid  that  *  flie  afcribed  it  whol- 
ly to  the  goodnefs  of  God  to  her ;  for  fhe  did  not  doubt 
that  many  fell  under  hard  cenfures  who  deferved  them 
as  little' — adding  that  *  God  knew  her  weaknefs,  that 
fhe  was  not  able  to  besr  fome  imputations,  and  there- 
fore did  not  try  her  beyond  her  strength.' 

What  is  good,  and  what  is  great  in  human  nature, 
were  fo  equally  mixed,  and  flione  Co  brightly  in  her, 
that  it  was  difficult  to  i'^.y  for  which  Hie  was  moif  re- 
markable. 

She  was  diflinguiflied  for  a  clearncfs  of  apprchen- 
fion,  an  exadlnefs  of  memory,  a  folidity  of  judgment, 
and  corrednefs  cf  expreffion.  She  dlfcovered  a  fupe- 
rior  genius,  and  a  felicity  of  imrglration,  even  on 
common  fubjefts.  Her  age  and  rank  denied  her  f  p- 
portunities  for  much  ftudy  :  yet  fhe  read  the  befl  books 
in  Englifb,  Dutch  and  French  ;  three  languages  whiclt 
were  almofl:  equally  familiar  to  her.  She  gave  rnoCt 
of  her  hours  to  the  ftudy  of  the  fcriptures,  and  of 
books  relating  to  them.  Jn  this  way  flie  acquired  a 
-deep  and  extenfive  knowledge  of  Divinity.  Next  to 
this,  Hil^ory,  crpccially  of  modern  times,  and  of  her 
own  country,  engaged  much  of  her  attention,  as  bein^ 
F  ^pcculiarl^ 


peculiarly  ir.ilriiiiive.  Of  Poetry,  (he  was  both  x 
k^ver  and  a  judge.  She  liked  it  bell:  -when  employed 
on  the  befi  fubjecls:  but  its  proftitution  gave  her  great 
pain.  She  acquainted  herlelt  with  Natural  Hiltory 
ami  Pcrljpeclive,  was  accurate  in  Geography,  and  ac- 
<^'jired  fonse  general  knowledge  of  Philolophy  and  the 
Mathematics.  On  the  whole,  her  proficience  in 
inowieJge  was  remarkable,  ccMiiidering  the  weaknefs 
of  her  eves,  and  the  many  hours  v.r,ich  Ihe  fpent  in 
herclofet.  For  tathionable  entertainments  ihe  had  no 
leliih.  If  ihe  fometimes  u!ed  them,  it  was  becaufe 
ihe  wiihed  not  to  give  offence  by  too  rigid  an  oppo- 
ii'tion  to  eftablilhed  cuftoms.  Her  favorite  amufe- 
ir»ents  were  Architecture  and  Gardening,  in  which  ihe 
gave  fome  indulgence  to  her  genius  and  talle.  In  this 
\'^SLY  fhe  incurred  ccniiderable  expeni^s  ;  but  as  marv 
J]3nd^  were  employed,  (he  faid,  *  Ihe  hoped  it  v.  ouid 
be  forgiven  hsr.' 

If  we  coailder  the  fubjeci  of  cur  memoirs  r^sre  ex- 
-prefslv  as  a  queen,  ihQ  will  appear  lo  much  advan- 
tage. Few  have  polTeiTed  at  cnce  fo  great  capacity  for 
government,  and  fo. little  inclination.  What  fhe  re- 
luctantly aiTumed,  -and  cheerfully  relinquifhed,  fhc 
managed  with  remarkable  fkill  and  propriety.  Call- 
ed, in  the  abfence  of  the  king,  to  preude  in  the  ad- 
miniuration,  fne  ruled  in  a  manner  worthy  of  herfelf ; 
governing  the  affections  of  the  people,  and  erecting 
her  throne  in  their  hearts.  She  vvas  gentle  in  com- 
inanding,  cautious  in  promlfing,  generous  in  reward- 
inir,  patient  in  her  audiences,  and  her  attentions  to  the 
complicated  concerns  of  government.  That  nothing 
might  be  done  in  haile,  the  day  was  early  begun. 
Thus  wiihout  (Lortening  her  devotions,  (he  found  time 
to  keep  up  the  cuftomary  forms,  and  the  cheerfulnefs 
of  a  court.  She  was  not  fo  abforbed  by  the  greatell 
xares,  as  to  negled  the  fmalleft. 

There  were  occafions  indeed,  on  which  {he  was  fo 
'rDrefTed  by  her  modePiy  and  humility,  as  to  be  too 


eaflly 


Mary,  Qj: e  e  .s-  o  f  G r  e  a  t  E ?.  i t a  i  n* .        59- 

eafily  perfuaded  that  the  plan?  of  conducl  fuggeiled  by 
others,  vsere  belter  than  her  own.  Ii  in  this  way  Die 
was  fometimes  milled,  efpecially  in  things  with  whica 
Ihe  had  iittie  previous  acquaintance,  the  miilake  was 
not  only  venial,  but  amiable.  Where  confcience 
clearly  decided  the  path  of  duty,  ilie  \\?.s  firm  zrA  :::" 
movable. 

Her  adminifrration  of  public  affairs  had  this  pccu.- 
iar  felicitv  attending  it,  that  whiie  her  amiable  con- 
du'^  difarmed  the  greater  p  .rt  of  her  enemies,  her 
v/ifJom  and  fecrecy  efreduallv  defeated  the  deiigns  of 
the  few  who  '.vere  more  determined  and  inveterate. 
Ir  feafons  of  apparent  tranquility,  ibe  was  circum- 
fpeSiy  and  often  apprehenfive  :  bat  when  vir!ble  dan- 
ger prefented,  her  nrmnefs  of  mind  and  conduct  were 
truly  remarkable.  When -there  appeared  reafcn  to 
fear  the  worif,  Trie  feemed  afraid  of  nothine.  This 
was  particularly  manifeil  when  an  invaflon  wrs 
threatened  from  France,  in  the  early-part  cf  her  rti,. 
She  was  refolvcd  th.^  if  things  fhould  proceed  lo  t  : 
tremities,  (he  would  venture  ht^rfeif  with  her  people, 
and  either  fave  them,  or  perKh  with  them. 

This  nril  exercife  of  royal  power  mull  have  hsen 
impleafant  indeed  :  but  fbe  polFcired  her  fctd  in  ])2- 
tience,  and  lived  in  a  conifa'--*  rehgnation  t3  the  w  iH 
of  God,  free  from  great  anxiety  refpecling  events. 
The  victory  at  the  Boyne,  where  king  James's  army 
was  routed  by  king  William's,  foon  rtverfed  the  fcene, 
and  put  another  face  on  public  aiTairs.  On  this  occ?- 
fjon,  none  feem.ed  lefs  changed  than  the  queen.  She 
looked  more  cheerful,  but  not  more  tranquil,  than  be- 
fore. She  was  indeed  greatly  relieved  to  find  that  her 
father,  fer  whom  fhe  lliil  cheri^ed  a  tender  affection, 
was  fafe.  To  preferve  his  life,  or  her  hulband's,  fhc 
would  willingly  have  facrificed  her  own.  Spe?.king  of 
the  goodnefs  of  G^^d  in  their  prefcrvation,  fhe  could 
Eot  refrain  weeping,  while  ihe  faid  that  her  heart  had 
tienabled,  not  fo-much  at  her  own  canger,   as  at   the 

fcenc 


Co  Memoirs  o? 

fceiie  a-^ed  ?1  the  Boyne  ;  that  God  had  heard  her 
prayers,  and  fhe  bleilcd  him  lor  it  \vith  as  fenlible  a 
joy  as  llie  ever  knew. 

The  next  feafon  of  her  adminillration  concluded 
the  reduction  of  Ireland  ;  an  event  v^hich  at  the  time, 
feemed  very  improbable,  and  which  gave  occafion  to 
the  pious  queen  to  make  a  remaik  to  this  purpole  : 
that  the  national  forces  cliewhere  were  fo  confidera- 
ble,  that  languine  hopes  were  indulged,  of  fomeihing 
d^rcifive  :  Ireland  alone  w^as  apprehended  to  be  too 
weakly  furnilhed.  *  Yet  fo  diiferent,  llie  added,  *  are 
the  methods  of  Providence  from  human  calculation?, . 
that  nothing  memorable  happened,  but  in  the  very- 
place  where  little  or  nothing  was  expected,' 

She  was  again  in  the  adminillration  when  the  na- 
tion was  thrcalened  with  a  defcent  and  invafjcn  which - 
leemed  very  formidable.  A  moil  painful  circiun- 
jlance  to  the  queen  was,  that  it  was  to  be  conduced 
by  her  father.  It  was  utterly  fruihated  by  a  feries  of 
w'inds  equally  favorable  to  the  Eritiili  fieet,  and  hof- 
lile  to  the  French.  In  contem.plation  of  this  fignal 
interpofition  cf  Heaven,  Hie  was  thankful,  but  not  e- 
jated.  Nor  was  (lie,  on  the  contrary,  greaily  depref-. 
fed,  when,  in  the  courfe  of  things,  Picvirlence  feem- 
ed lefs  to  favor,  She  \\;xs  led  indeed  by  fuch  events, 
to  make  humble  and  tender  refledions  on  her  own 
frailties  and  errors,  and  to  fear  left  they  were  the  guil- 
ty, caufe.  Still  (he  fought  her  refuge  in  God  :  and  tre- 
quently  acknowledged  that  her  greateft  difquietudes 
were  tranquilized  and  relieved  by  prayer, 

When  melancholly  events  came  immcdiEtdy  from 
the  hand  of  heaven,  fhe  laid  that  *  though  there  was 
TiO  occafion  oi co^nptaint  or  anger j  on  thele  crofs  events, 
yet  there  w-as  a  juiter  caufe  oi  grief,  fir.ce  Go.ds  hand 
was  to  be  feen  fo  particularly  in  them.'  ;:o:r.etimes 
fhe  feared  thar  fome  fecret  fins  /night  He  at  the  root, 
and  blaiiali  :  but  Ihe  wouldfoon  add,  that  *  where  fo 
much  was  vifible,  there  wa.'  no  need  cf  divination, 
coricerning  what  might  be  hidden/  In 


Mary,  Qijeen  of  Great  Britain.       6t 

In  her  brighteft  feafons,  (lie  grew  not  fcciire  r.or 
unniindful  ot  her  dependence  on  God.  The  plcufures 
of  a  court  had  little  place  in  her  heart  ;  and  fhe  hap- 
pily maintained  a  habitual  indiffeience  to  their  con- 
tinuance. From  fome  cafual  indifpofitions  (he  took 
occafion  to  bring  death  as  near  as  pufhble  to  her  mind, 
that  {he  might  judge  of  her  preparation  to  encounter 
tliat  lad  enemy.  The  refult  cf  this  examination  was 
very  comforting.  She  faid  that  though  flie  did  not 
pray  for  death,  yet  flie  could  neither  wifli  nor  pray 
againft  it.  She  left  that  with  God,  and  referred  her- 
felf  to  the  difpofal  of  his  providence.  If  (he  did  not 
wiih  for  death,  yet  (he  did  not  fear  it. 

The  tranquility  fhe  felt  when  death  appeared  more 
diftant,  was  neither  deftroycd  nor  leifencd  by  its  near 
approach.  Amid  the  fighs  and  tears  of  all  around  her, 
fhe  was  ferene  and  peaceful.  So  faft  did  {he  rife  above 
mortality,  that  even  her  hufband,  wliO  was  more  to 
her,  than  all  the  world  be  fide,  could  not  infpire  her 
with  any  defirc  of  returning  back  to  life.  She  receiv- 
ed the  intimations  of  ^  approaching  death  with 
firmnefs.  In  that  horir^Rien  the  moft  artificial  grow 
fincere,  when  hypocrify  drops  its  mafk,  and  difclofcs 
the  foul  to  view,  it  appeared  how  fincere  and  fublime 
was  her  piety.  *'  1  have  been  inilrticltd,"  faid  (be, 
*'  hov/  very  hazardous  it  is  to  r^ly  upon  a  deaih-bcd 
repentance  ;and  I  am  notnow  to  begin  liie  great  work  of 
preparing  for  death  :  and  I  praife  God,  I  am  not  afraid 
of  it."  She  added,  that  Ihe  experienced  the  joys  of  p, 
good  confcience,and  the  power  of  rcligi(Mi  giving  hcv 
jupports  which  even  the  lart  agonies  could  not  fllak^^ 
She  fcemed  to  have  left  nothing  to  be  arranged  by  her 
in  her  lafl  hours.  Her  mind  was  free  from  anxieties 
of  every  kind,  and  calm  as  the  Hill  fmall  voice  which 
feemed  to  be- calling  her  foul  away  to  the  regions  a- 
bovc.  An  entire  refignation  to  the  will  of  God,  ani 
a  willingnefs  to  be  diffolved,  did  not  foffake  her,  fo 
much  as  for  a  moinent.  Her  genilcncfs  and  tender' 
y  %  attciuioas 


62  Memoirs  of 

attentions  to  all  about  her,  v,'ere  equally  unaltered. 
A  few  hours  before  (he  breathed  her  laif,  preceiving 
that  her  chaplain  had  been  attending  on  her  long,  and 
apprehending  he  nnight  be  weary,  fhe  bade  him  fit 
down,  and  repeated  the  injun6lion  till  he  complied — 
a  clrcumjiance  indeed  ;  but  fuch  as  dilcovered  at  once 
tne  calm.nefs  of  her  mind,  and  the  fv/eet  benevo- 
lence of  her  difpofitien.  While  ^\^  was  awake,  her 
conllant  exerciie  was  prayer  :  and  fo  fenfible  was  the 
Tefrefhment  which  fhe  found  in  it,  that  fhefaid  it  gave 
her  more  cafe  than  any  thing  which  was  done  for  her. 
Nature  funk  apace.  She  received  the  facrament  with 
a  devotion  which  at  once  animated  and  melted  all  pre- 
fent.  That  being  over,  fhefeemed  on  the  wing  \  and 
gave  herfeif  up  fo  entirely  to  meditation,  as  fcarcel- 
to  regard  any  tiling  earthly.  Providence  blcifed  he. 
with  adifmiiiion  fo  eafy,  that  ihe  would  fcarce  have 
■known  herfeif  to  be  fick,  but  by  what  was  intimated, 
Jind  done  for  her,  by  thofe  around.  Thus  fhe  put  off 
mortality,  and  pad  from  an  earthly  to  a  lieavenly 
crown  ;  a  crown  of  glory  that  ihall  never  fade  away. 
There  is  one  point  of  H  j^t  too  important  to  be  o- 
mlitad,  in  which  this  extraordinary  woman  has  not; 
yet  been  exhibited.  She  was  a  pattern  of  every  con- 
jugal virtue.  **  She  was  fo  tender  and  refpectful  a 
wife,"  fays  Bifhcp  Burnet,  **  that  (he  feemed  to  go 
he)ond  the  mofl  perfect  idea  to  which  invention  has 
been  able  to  rife.  The  lowefl:  condition  of  lile,  or 
the  greateft  inequality  of  fortune,  has  not  afforded  fo 
complete  a  pattern.  Tendernefs  and  complaceny. 
feemed  to  flrive  which  fhould  he  the  more  erainento 
She  had  no  higher  fatisfadion  in  the  profped  of  the 
greatnefs  that  was  defcending  on  her,  than  that  it  gave 
her  an  occafion  of  making  herhufband  a  prefent  wor- 
thy of  himfelf.  Nor  had  crowns  or  thrones  any 
charm  f.)  pleafant  to  her,  as  that  they  raifed  him  to  a 
greatnefs  which  he  fo  well  deferved,and  couldfo  well 
maintain.     She  was  all  zeal  and  rapture  when  any 

thing 


Mary,  Queen  of  Great  Britain.        % 

thing  was  to  be  done  that  could  exprefs  eiiher  affec- 
tion or  refpe6l  to  him.'-  Thefe  enconniums,  though 
they  may  feem  extravagant,  ^realmoft  juftified  by  the 
king's  pungent  and  inconfolable  grief  at  the  lols  of 
her,  and  the  expreffions  which  theoccafion  drew  irom 
hira.  When  Dr.  Tenifon,  upon  her  death,  went  to 
comfort  the  king,  his  Majefty  anfvvercd,  that  *  he 
could  not  but  grieve,  fmce  he  had  loft  a  wife  who  in 
feventeen  years  had  never  been  guilty  of  an  indifcre- 
tion.'  *'  On  the  third  day  of  her  illnefs,"  fays  BilTiop  . 
Burnet,  **  the  king  called  me  into  his  clofet,  and  gave 
a  free  vent  to  a  moil:  tender  palTion.  He  burft  into 
tears,  and  cried  out,  that-  there  was  no  hope  of  the 
queen,  and  that  from  being  the  happieft,  he  was  now 
going  to  be  the  mod  miferable  creature  on  earth.  He 
faid,  that  during  the  whole  courfe  of  their  marriage, 
he  had  never  known  a  Tingle  fault  in  her  ;  that  there 
was  a  worth  in  her,  that  no  body  knew  bcfides  him- 
felf.'  The  fame  hiftorian  adds,  that  **  the  king's  af- 
flidion  for  her  death  was  as  great  as  it  was  jull.  It 
was  greater  than  thofe  Vv'ho  knew  him  beft,  thought 
his  temper  capable  of.  During  her  ficknefs,  he  was 
in  an  agony  that  amazed  us  all,  fainting,  o-fien,  and 
breaking  out  into  mod  violent  lamiCntations.  When 
fhe  died,  his  fpiriis  funk  fo  low,  that  there  was  great 
reafon  to  apprehend  he  was  follo\\  ing  her.  For  fome 
weeks  after,  he  was  fo  little  maOcr  of  himfelf,  that 
he  was  not  capable  of  minding  bufinefs,  or  of  feeing 
company." 

Among  the  remains  of  this  excellent  woman,  is  a 
colleclion  of  letters  (to  the  number  of  thirty-feven) 
which  flic  wrote  to  her  hufband,  during  his  abfence 
in  Ireland  ;  a  period  of  about  three  months.  As  thefe 
letters  throw  much  light  on  the  fubjed  lad  mention- 
ed, and  on  many  other  parts  other  charader,  we  Ihail 
enrich  thefe  memoirs  with  a  few  Extracts, 

<<  You 


^  Memoirs  02^' 

''  You  will  be  weary  of  feeing  every  dr.y  a  letfar 
from  me,  it  may  be  :  yet,  being  apt  to  flatter  myfelf 
I  hope  you  will  be  as  willing  to  read,  as  I  to  write* 
Indeed,  it  is  the  only  comfort  I  have  in  this  world,  be- 
iide  that  of  truft  in  God.  •  I  have  nothing  to  fay  tcr 
yon  at  prefent,  that  is  worth  writing,  and  I  think  it 
unreafonable  to  trouble  you  with  my  grief,  which  I 
muft  continue  while  you  are  abfent,  though  I  truft 
every  poft  to  hear  feme  good  news  from  you.  I  can- 
not enough  thank  God  for  your  being  fo  well  pad  the 
dangers  of  the  fea,  I  befeechhim  in  his  mercy  ftill  to 
preferve  you,  and  fend  us  once  more  a  happy  meet- 
ing on  earth.  I  long  to  hear  again  from  you,  hoiv 
the  air  of  Ireland  agrees  with  you  ;  for  I  muft  ov/n 
I  am  not  without  my  fears  for  that,  loving  you  fo  eii- 
tirely  as  I  do,  and  fliall  till  death," 


O;;  a  ?'efjiarkahle  efcape  cf  the  'kin^..  ' 

**  I  can  never  give  God  thanks  enough,  as  long  ijs 
I  live,  for  your  prefervation.  I  hope  in  his  mercy, 
that  this  is  a  l:gn  he  preferves  you  to  finifh  the  work 
lie  has  begun  by  ycu  ;  but  I  hope  it  may  be  a  warn- 
ing to  you,  to  let  you  fee  you  are  expofed  to  as  many 
accidents  as  others.  And  though  it  has  pleafed  God 
to  keep  you  once  info  vifible  a  manner,- yet  you  muft 
forgive  me,  if  I  tell  ycu- 1  fhould  think  it  a  templing 
God,  to  venture  again,  without  great  neceflity.  I 
know  what  I  fay  of  this  kind  will  be  attributed  to 
fear.  J  own  I  have  agrcat  deal  for  your  dear  perfon  ; 
yet  I  hope  I  am  not  unreafonable  upon  the  fubje^, 
for  I  truft  in  God  ;  and  he  is  pleafed  every  day  to 
confirm  me  more  and  more  in  the  confidence  I  have  ia 
him.  Yet  my  fears  are  not  lefs,  fmce  I  cannot  tell  if 
it- fhould  be  his  will  to  fufi^er  you  to  com.e  to  harm  for 
our  fins,  and  when  that  miight  happen  ;  for  though 
God  is  able,  yet  many  times  he  puniihes  the  fins  of  a 
2]Atioii  as  it  fesms  good  in  his  fight.     Your  writing, 

me. 


Mary,  Queen  of  Great  Britain.      65 

nie  word  how  foon  you  hoped  to  fend  me  good  new?, 
Ihewsme  how  loon  yon  thought  there  may  be  fomc 
adion  ;  and  that  thought  put  me  in  perpetual 
pain.  This  morning,  when  I  heard  the  exprels  was 
come,  before  Lord  Nottingham  came  up,  1  was  taken 
with  a  trembling  for  fear,  which  has  hardly  left  me 
yet  ;  and  I  really  do  not  know  what  I  do.  Your  let- 
ter came  jufl  before  1  went  to  chapel ;  and  though  the 
f.rft  thing  Lord  Nottingham  told  me  was,  that  ycu 
were  very  well,  yet  the  thoughtsthat  youexpofe  your- 
fclf  thus  to  danger,  fright  me  out  of  my  wits,  and' 
make  me  not  able  to  keep  my  trouble  to  myfelf :  but 
let  me  beg  you  to  lake  more  care  for  the  time  to  come. 
Gonfider  what  depends  upon  your  fafety.  There  are 
fo  many  more  important  things  than  myfeU,  that  I 
think  1  am  not  worthy  naming  among  them.  ^  But  it 
may  be,  the  word  will  be  over  before  this  time,^fo 
that  I  will  fay  no  more.  I  riid  not  anfwer  your  let' er 
by  the  poft  laft  night,  becaufe  the  exprefs  could  not  be 
difpatched  ;  and  i  believe  more  hindrances  are  come ; 
for  Lord  Steward  and  Lord  Pembroke  wriie  v^ord 
they  will  be  here  to-night.  But  I  can  fay  very  little 
upon  the  fubje^V  at  prefent,  for  I  really  had  my  head 
and  heart  fo  full  of  you,  I  could  mind  nothing  cile. 
I  hope  you  will  forgive  me,  if  I  forget  half  what  I 
have  to  fay  -,  for  really  my  concern  for  you  has  got 
the  mailery,  and  I  am  not  able  think  of  any  thing elfe, 
but  that  I  love  you  in  more  abundance  than  my  owq 
life.--' 

On  the -king's  vlSfory  at  the  Boyr.c. 

'*  How  to  begin  this  letter  I  know  not,  or  how  to 
render  God  thanks  enough  for  his  mercie?.  Indeed 
they  are  too  great,  if  we  look  on  our  deferis.  Eut,  as 
you  fay,  it  is  his  own  caufe  :  and  fmce  it  is  tor  the 
glory  of  Ids  great  name,  we  have  no  reafon  to  fear  but 
he  will  perfecT:  what  he  has  begun.  For  myfelf,  my 
heart  is  fo  full  of  joy  and   acknowledgment   to  tb^^ii 

great 


66  Memo  IKS  OP 

great  God  who  has  preferved  yoii,  and  given  you  [uth 
a  vittorv,  that  1  am  unable  to  explain  it.  I  befeech 
him  to  ^ive  rae  grace  to  be  ever  fenfible,  as  I  ought  ; 
and  tha^  I  and  all  may-  live  fuitably  to  fuch  a  mercy 
as  this  is.  1  am  lorry  the  fleet  has  done  no  better  ; 
but  it  is  God's  providence  ;  and  we  mud  not  murmur, 
but  wait  with  paiience  to  (ee  the  event.  1  was  yefter- 
day  out  of  my  fenfes  with  trouble  :  I  am  now  almcjt 
fo  with  joy  ;  (o  that  I  really  cannot  as  yet  tell  what  I 
have  to  fay  to  you  by  this  bearer,  who  is  impatient  to 
return,  t  hope  by  the  afternoon  to  be  in  a  condition 
of  {cnC^  enough  to  fay  much  more  j  but  for  the  prcf- 
en^  I  am  not. 

**  When  I  wrote  the  foregoing  part  of  this,  it  was 
in  the  morning,  foon  after  1  had  received  yours  :  and 
now  it  is  four  in  the  afternoon  ;  but  I  am  not  yet  come 
to  my  felt  ;  and  fear  I  fliall  lofe  this  opportunity  of 
writing  all  my  mind,  for  I  am  ftill  in  fuch  a  confulion 
of  thoughts,  that  I  fcarce  know  what  to  fay  :  but  I 
hope  YOU  will  now  readily  confent  to  what  the  Lord 
Preudent  wrote  lalf  night  j  for  methinks  there  is  no- 
thing more  for  you  to  do,  ■  I  will  hallen  Kenfmgtoa 
as  much  as  poilible  ;  and  I  will  alfo  get  ready  for  you 
here  ;  for  1  hope  you  may  come  before  that  is  done.  I 
mulf  ptit  you  in  mind  of  one  thing,  believing  it  ro-vV 
the  feafon  ;  which  is>  that  you  would  take  care  of  the 
church  in  Ireland.  Every  body  agrees  that  it  is  the 
worft  in  Chriftendomv  There  are  now  biflioprics 
vacant,  and  other  things.  I  beg  you  will  take  timfe 
to  confider  wliom-you  will  -fill  them  Vv^ith.-  You  will 
forgive  me  that  I  trouble  you  with  this  now  •,  but  I 
hope  you  will  take  care  of  thofe  things  which  are  of 
fo  great  confequence  to  religion,  which  I  am  fure  witl 
be  more  your  care  every  day,  now  that  it  has  pleafed 
God  to  blefs  you  with  fuccefs.  I  think  I  liave  told 
you  before,  how  impatient  I  am  to  hear  how  you  ap- 
prove what  has  been  done  here.  I  have  but  little  part 
In  it  myfelf^  but  I  .long  to  hear  how  others  have  pler^f^- 


Mary,  Queen  OF  Great  ijRiTAiN.        67 

ed  you.  I  am  very  uneafy  in  one  thing,  which  is  the 
want  of  fomcbody  to  fpeak  my  nnind  freely  to  ;  for  it 
is  a  great  rcdraiRt  to  think,  and  be  lilent,  and  there  is 
(o  much  matter,  that  I  am  ready  to  burft.  Lord  Not- 
ti.ngham  brought  me  your  letter  yeflerday,  and  I  could 
not  hold,-  To  he  favv  me  cry,  which  I  have  hindered 
myfelf  from  before  every  body  till  then,  that  it  was 
impofiible  :  and  this  morning,  v/hen  I  heard  llie  joy- 
ful nev/s  from  Mr.  Butler,  I  was  in  pain  to  know 
what  bad  become  of  the  late  king,  but  durft  not  afk 
him  :  but  when  Lord  Nottingham  came,  I  venture d 
to  do  it,  and  had  the  fatisfaclion  to  know  he  was  fafe. 
I  know  I  need  not  beg  you  to  let  liim  be  tsken  care  of, 
for  I  am  confident  you  will  for  your  own  fake  yet  add 
that  to  all  your  kindnefs,  and  for  my  fake  let  people 
know  you  v/ould  have  no  hurt  come  to  his  perfon. 
Forgive  me  this.  The  Lords  of  the  Treafury  have 
defired  me  that  if  there  is  anything  to  .be  d()ne,-L 
would  h.ear  them  all.  You  gave  me  no  direcTrions  in 
tills,  but  to  the  contrary  ;  fo  that  I  liave  declined  it 
hitherto,  but  if  I  mud  fign  any  warrant,  it  muft  ccme 
loir. 

*'  I  have  written  this  at  Co  many  times  that  I  fear 
you  will  hardly  make  fenfeof  it.  1  long  to  hear  what 
you  will  fay  to  the  propofition  that  will  befent  to  you 
tiiis  night  by  the  Lords,  and  flatter  mvfelf  mightily 
"ivith  the  hopes  to  fee  you  ;  for  which  I  am  more  im- 
j)atient  than  can  be  exprelTed,  loving  you  with  a  paf- 
iion  vvhich  cannot  end  but  with  my  life." 

On  fJje  kifig's  delayhig  his  return^ 

-**  Unlefs  I  could  exprefs  the  joy  I  had  at  the  thouglifs 
of  your  coming,  it  would  be  in  vain  to  ujidertake  tel- 
ling you  of  the  difappointment  it  is  to  me,  that  you  do 
not  come  fo  foon.  I  began  to  be  in  great  pain  left 
y^u  had  been  in  the  (form  on  Thurfday  niglit,  which 
I  am  told  was  great;  though  its  being  on  the  other  fide 

the 


CS  .Memoirs  o? 

the  houfe  hindered  my  hearing  it  ;  but  was  foon  de- 
livered by  your  letter  of  the  29th.  I  confefs  I  defervc 
Aich  a  flop  to  my  joy,  fmce  it  may  be  it  was  too  great, 
and  I  not  thankful  enough  to  God,  and  we  all  here  are 
apt  to  be  too  vain  upon  fo  quick  a  fuccefs.  But  I 
have  mortification  enough  to  think  your  dear  perfon 
may  be  again  expofed  at  the  paflage  ot  the  Shannon, 
as  it  was  at  that  of  the  Boyne.  This  is  what  goes  to 
my  heart  ;  hut  yet  I  fee  the  reafons  for  it  fo  good  that 
I  will  not  murmur  :  for  certainly  your  glory  would 
be  the  greater  to  terminate  the  war  this  fummer,  and 
the  people  here  much  better  pleafed,  than  if  they  muft 
furnifli  next  year  for  the  fame  thing  again.  Upon 
thefe  confiderations  I  ought  to  be  fatisncd  ;  and  I  will 
eisdeavor,  as  much  as  may  be,  to  fubmit  to  the  will  of 
God,  and  your  judgment.  But  you  miuft  forgive  a  p^or 
wife,  who  loves  you  fo  dearly,  if  I  cannot  do  it  with 
dry  eyes.  Yet  fince  it  has  pieafed  God  fo  wonderful- 
ly to  preferve  you  all  your  life,  and  fo  miraculoufiy 
liow,  I  need  not  doubt  but  he  will  ftlli  preferve  you. 
Yet  let  me  beg  you  not  to  expofe  ycurfcli  unneceffari- 
}y:  that  will  be  too  much  tempting  that  Providence 
which  I  hope  will  ftill  watch  over  you.  1  fhall  be 
very  im.patlent  to  hear  again  from  you  ;  till  when,  I 
fliall  be  in  perpetual  pain  and  trouble,  which  I  can- 
not think  you  can  can  wonder  at,  kriowing  that  you 
are  dearer  to  me  than  m.v  life.'' 


'*  You  may  believe  I  iliali  do  as  much  as  lies  in  my 
power  to  follov/  your  directions  in  all  things  whatev- 
er, and  am  never  fo  eafy  as  when  I  have  them.  Judge 
then  what  a  joy  it  was  to  me,  to  have  your  approba- 
tion of  my  behavior  :  this,  and  the  kind  way  you  cx- 
prefs  it  in,  is  the  only  comfort  I  can  poflibly  have  in 
your  abfence.  What  other  people  fay,  I  ever  fufpe6l  ; 
but  when  you  tell  me  I  have  done  well,  I  could  be  al- 
mod:  vain  upon  it.  I  am.  hire  I  have  all  the  reafon 
in  the  world  to  praife  God,  who  has  fuilained   me  ia 

things 


Mary,  Queem  of  Great  Britain.        69 

things  fo  difficult  to  fiefh  and  blood,  and  has  given  ine 
more  courage  than  I  could  have  hoped  for.  I  ana  fure, 
it  is  fo  great  a  mercy  that  I  can  never  forget  it.  Wc 
have  received  many  :  God  lend  us  grace  to  value  thein 
as  we  ought.  I  am  very  innpatient  to  hear  again  if 
yoij  are  over  the  Shannor.  Thar  pairage  frights  me. 
You  muil  excufe  my  telling  my  tears.  1  love  you  toj 
much  to  hide  ;hem  ;  and  that  makes  all  dangers  feeni 
greater,  it  may  be,  than  they  are.  I  pray  God  in  his 
mercy  keep  you,  and  fend  us  a  happy  meeting  here  cii 
earth,  before  we  meet  iu  heaven  ! 

**  If  I  could  take  more  pains  todeferve  yourkinri- 
i:efs,  that  which  you  write  v.ould  make  me  do  it:  bi.: 
that  has  been  ever  fo  much  my  de']rc,that  1  cannot  io 
more  for  you,  nor  love  you  better." 


"  You  will  have  an  account  trom  Lord  Nottirg- 
]iam  what  has  been  done  this  day  and  yeueriday.  I 
know  you  will  piiy  me  ;  and  I  hope  you  will  believe, 
if  your  letter  had  been  Itfs  kind,  I  do  not  know  wha: 
would  become  or  me.  It  is  that  only  makes  nie  bear 
all  that  now  fo  torments  me :  and  I  give  God  thanks 
every  day  for  your  kindnefs.  it  is  fuch  a  fati^faclion 
to  me  to  find  that  you  are  fatisiied  with  me,  that  I 
.mnot  exprefs  it  :  and  1  do  (o  flatter  myftU  wiih  tiio 
hopes  of  being  once  more  happy  with  ycu  in  this 
world,  that  that  thought  alone  makes  me  bear  all  wiih 
patience.  I  pray  God  preferve  you  from  the  dan^;ers 
I  hear  you  expoie  yourfelf  daily  to,  which  puts  me  in 
continual  pain.  A  battle  I  fancy  is  foon  over  ;  but 
the  perpetual  Ihooling  you  are  now  in,  is  aa  intolera- 
ble thing  to  think  on.  Take  care  of  yourfelf.  You 
owe  it  to  yourfelr,  and  this  country,  and  to  all  in  Gen- 
eral. I  mull  not  i'lams  rayfeif,  where  church  andliate 
are  equally  concerned  :  yet  I  mud  needs  fay,  ycu  owe 
a  little  care  for  my  fake,  who,  I  am  fere,  lo\e  ym 
mere  than  you  can  do  rne  ;  and  the  little  care  you  Xikt 
o  of 


Memoirs  of 


c»f  your  dear  perfon,  I  take  to  be  a  (ign  of  it  :    but  I 
mufl:  0:111  love  you  more  than  life.'"' 


<i  J./T 


Jly  poor  heart  is  ready  to  break,  every  time  I  think 
in  what  perpetual  danger  you  are.       I  am  in   greater 
fears  than  can  be  imagined  by  any  who  loves  lefs  than 
myfelf.       I  count  the  hours,  and  the  moments  ;   and 
have  onlyreafon  enough  left  to  think,  as  long  as  I  have 
no  letters,  all  is  well.      I  believe  by  what  you   write 
that  Ycu  got  your  cannon  on  Friday  at  farthefl:  ;  and 
then,'  Saturday,   I    fuppofe  you  began  to  make  ufe  of 
them.  Judge  then  whatci-uel  thoughts  they  are  to  me, 
to  think  what  you  may  be  expofed  to   all   this  while. 
I  never   do  any  thing  without  thinking,  now,  it  may- 
be vcu  are  in  ihc  greateft  dangers.     And  yet  I    mutT 
fee'company  on  fet  days.       I    mud  laugh,  and   talk, 
though  ever  fo  much  againft  my  will.      1  believe  I  dif- 
femble  very  ill  to  thofe  who  know  me  :  at  leafl:,  it  is 
a  great  conftraint  to  m.yfelf.     Yet  I  mud   endure  it. 
All  my  motions  are  fo  watched,  and  all  I  do,  fo  obferv- 
€d,  that  if  I  eat  lefs,  or  fpeak  lefs,  or  look  more  grave, 
all  is  loft  in  the  opinion  of  the  world.     So  that  I  have 
this  mifery  added  to  that  of  your  abfence,and  my  fears 
for  your  dear  perfon,  that  I   muft  grin  wlien  my  heart 
is  ready  to  break,   and  talk  when  my  heart  is  fo  op- 
preflcd  that  I  can  fcarce  breathe.      In  this  fituation,  I 
do  not  know  what  I  fliould  do,    were  it  not  for  the 
grace  of  God  which  fupports  me.     I  am  fure  I  have 
great  reafon  to  praife  the  Lord  while  I   live,  for   this 
Sreat  mercy,   that  I  do  not  fink  under  this  afflidion  : 
nay,  that  I  keep  my  health  ;    for   I  can  neither  fleep, 
nor  eat.        I  go  to  Kenfmgton  as  often  as  I  can,    for 
air  ;  but  then'l  can  never  be  quite  alone  ;  neither  can 
I  com.plain  ;  that  would  be  fome  eafc  :  but  I  have  no 
body  whofe  humor  and  circumftances  agree  with  mine 
enouoh,  to  whom  to  fpeak  m.y  mind  freely.     Befides, 
J  mulf  hear  of  bufinefs,  which  being  a  thing  I  am  fo 
.isvv  in;,  and  fo  unfit  for,  docs  but  rack  my  brains  tlie 

mo.rc_, 


Mary,  Qu e e n  o f  Gr e a t  Br i t a i n.        71 

more,  and  not  cafe  my  heart.  I  feel  have  inftinfibly 
raade  my  letter  too  long  upon  my 'own  (elf  ;  but  I  ara 
confident  you  love  me  enough  to  bear  with  it  ior  uncc. 
I  do  not  remember  that  I  have  been  guilty  of  the  like 
fault  fmce  you  went  ;  and  that  is  now  three  montlis  : 
for  which  time  of  almoll  perpetual  fear  and  trouble, 
this  is  but  a  (hort  account,  and  fo  I  hope  may  paf.^. 
It  is  fome  eafe  to  me  to  write  my  pain  ;  and  it  is  a 
great  fatisfaclion  to  believe  yo6  'Cvill  pity  me.  It  will 
be  yet  more,  when  I  hear  It  from  yourfelf  in  a  letter, 
as  I  am  fure  you  mull,  if  it  were  but  out  of  common 
good  nature  :  how  much  more  then  out  of  kindnefs  ; 
ir  you  love  me  as  well  as  you  make  me  believe,  and 
as  I  endeavor  to  deftrve  a  little,  by  the  fmcere  and 
lafling  kindnefs  I  have  for  you,  I  pray  God  the 
\veather  does  not  change  with  you,  as  it  does  here. 
It  has  rained  all  lad  night,  and  this  day;  and  looks  as 
if  it  was  fet  in  for  it.  Every  thing  frights  me  now  ; 
but  were  I  once  more  fo  happy  as  to  fee  you  here,  I 
fancy  I  fhould  fear  nothing.  I  have  always  forgot  lo 
tell  you  that  inthe  U/rsc.bl  Couraut,\hQy  have  printed 
a  letter  of  yours  to  the  States,  invvhich  you  promife 
foon  to  be  with  them.  1  cannot  tell  you  how  many 
ill  hours  I  have  had  about  that,  in  the  midfl  of  all  my 
joy.  Wheal  thought  you  were  coming  home,  it 
troubled  me  to  think  you  would  go  over,    and   fight 

again  there ■ — I  force  myfelf  to  end  my  letter  ;  be- 

feeching  God  to  blefs  you,  and  keep  you  from  all  dan- 
gers whatfoever,  and  lend  us  a  happy  meeting  agaia 
here  upon  earth,  and  at  1  ail  a  joyful  and  blelTed  one  ia= 
heaven,  in  his  good  time  !  Farewell.  Do  but  conti- 
nue to  love  me,  and  forgive  the  taking  up  fo  much  of 
your  time  to  your  poorvvife,  whodeferves  more  pity 
than  ever  any  creature,  and  who  loves  you  a  great 
d^al  too  much  for  her  own  eafe,  though  it  canno* 
be  mare  than  you  defer ve," 

Lines 


^^i  Memoirs  of" 

Lines  occafionedby  the  Queen'^s  Death, 

Extruded  from  an  Ode  compcjed  and  prcjentcd  to   ths. 
King  :    By  Matthew  Prior,  E  ( q . 

Jt  Ma  r  y's  tomb,  fad,  f acred  place  y 
The  Virtues/?'^//  tkeir  vigils^keep, 

And  every  Mufe,  and  every  Grace 
In  folcrnn  Jinie  fall  ever  ivccp. 

The  future  pious,  mournful  fair, 

Oft  as  the  rolling  years  return, 
JVitb  frag rr< nt  zvreaths,  and fioiving  lair, 

Shall  vifit  her  difanguijh  d  urn. 

For  her  the  wife  and  great  (ijuU  7:iourn, 
When  late  records  her  deeds  repeat  : 

Jges  to  come,  and  men  unborn 

Shall  hlefs  her  name,  ar.dfgh  her  fate. 

Fair  Albion  fo all  zvith  faithful  truft 
Her  holy  ^teen's  fad  relics  guard. 

Till  Heaven  awrhes  the  precious  dufl. 
And  gives  the  faint  her  full  re-ward. 


TfiE  PviCHT  Honorable 
I.  A  D  Y    M  A  R  Y   V  E  R  E. 


c 

^HE  was  of  2  refpeftable  family,  and  the 
youngefl  of  fifteen  children.  Her  mother  died  three 
days  after  her  birth  ;  and  her  father,  when  fhe  was 
v,o  more  than  eight  years  of  age. 

But 


Lady  Mary  Vere.  ^^ 

But  when  her  father  and  moiher  had  forfkken. 
her,  the  Lord  took  her  up.  The  experience  (he  had, 
through  life,  of  God's  moH:  tender  care  over  her,  in- 
duced her  to  adopt  this  motto,  which  fhe  wrote  in 
moftofher  books  :   God  will  provide. 

She  was  firft  married  to  Mr.  William  Hobby,  at 
about  the  age  of  nineteen.  By  him  (he  had  two  fon?, 
whom  fhe  religioufly  educated,  and  at  whofe  deaths, 
f[ie  reaped  the  bleiled  harveft  of  her  labors,  there  be- 
ing good  reafon  to  conclude  thst  thev  were  ripe  fcr 
heaven,  having  lived  long  in  little  time.  The  younger 
died  in  his  fourteenth  year  :  the  elder,  in  his  twenty- 
third,  much  admired  for  his  genius,  and  equally  be- 
beloved  for  his   pieiy. 

Her  fecond  huflDand  was  Sir  Horace  Vere,  after- 
ward B.iron  of  Tilbury  ;  a  perfon  of  honorable  ik- 
fcent  ;  but  more  honorable  for  his  acliieVjemcnts  in 
the  field,  and  mod  of  all,  for  his  unflained  piety.  He 
cbuXdi  wrcjile  zv'ith  God^d^s  well  as  fight  with  men. 

To  the  fubje6l  of  thefe  memoirs,  the  commenda- 
tion in  Nehemiah  (chapter  7.  2.)  had  a  Rriking  ap- 
plication. She  zuas  a  faithful  zvo?nan^  and  feared  God 
above  many.  She  had  a  remarkable  awe  of  the  Su- 
preme Being  habitually  on  her  fpirit,  and  was  oftcii 
heard  to  fay,  wich  much  emphadsand  folemnity  :  *'  O  ! 
I  would  not  fin  againft  my  God."  She  declared  that 
fhe  dreaded" hell  moil,  as  a  place  in  which  God  was 
blafphemedl 

She  poUeifed  an  eminent  zeal  for  the  public  worfliip 
of  God.  1  ins  Cie  evinced,  not  only  by  attending  on 
it  with  conilancy,  fo  long  as  Providence  granted  her 
Ifealth,  and  by  taking  care  that  her  family  attended, 
not  excepting  her  fervants  (whom  Ihe  woiild  conftnt 
to  retain  on  no  other  terms)  but  by  her  cxlrtiordinarv 
folemnity  and  devotion,  while  in  the  iioufe  cf  Go(L 
She  was  exceedingly  dillant  from  trilling  vviih  h  !y 
things,  and  in  holy  duties-;  which  gave  occaflon  to 
ene  to. fay  of  her,  that  *•  Lady  Vere,  by  her  folcmii 
G   2  '  ami 


^4  Memoirs  of 

and  reverent  deporlment,  would  make  one  believe  that 
there  is  a  God  indeed."  She  had  a  high  fenfe  of  the 
importance  of  the  facramental  fupper.  She  was 
anxious  to  partake  of  it  frequently  ;  nor  cculd  an/ 
confideration  prevail  with  her  to  negleft  an  opportuni- 
ty of  enjoying  this  facred  ordinance.  In  her  pre- 
paration for  it,  fhe  was  ferious  and  particular.  The 
whole  preceding  vv^eek  was  ordinarily  devoted  to  this 
work  ;  in  fome  part  of  which,  it  was  her  cuflorn  to 
keep  a  faff  in  her  family,  or  her  clofet. 

She  was  no  lels  confcientious  refpe^ling  the  pri- 
vate, than  the  public  worfhip  of  God.  She  did  not 
leave  her  devotion  in  the  church,  but  brought  it  home 
to  her  family.  If  ever  a  private  dwelling  might  be 
called  a  chapel,  orliitle  ran(Auary,  it  Wvis  hers.  Twice 
every  day,  the  prayers  of  the  family  were  offered  on 
bended  knees  to  Almighty  God,  his  holy  word  was 
read,  and  the  evening  fervice  concluded  with  one  of 
David's  Pfalms.  No  bufmefs,  nor  company  was  ever 
iultered  to  prevent  or  delay  thefe  daily  facrifices. 

On  the  Lord's  day,  the  fermon  preached  in  public 
was  repeated  to  the  houlehold  ;  the  fervants  were  cal- 
led to  give  an  account  before  her  of  what  each  of  them 
remembered  ;  after  which  the  family  united  in  afong 
ofpraife.  The  fervants,  when  difmiHed,  refumied 
the  fmging  of  pfalms  ;  and,  their  pious  miftrefs,  to 
encourage  them  in  this  edifying  employment,  would 
go  and  bear  her  part  v/ith  them. 

T\uce  every  day,  fhe  retired  to  her  clofet,  which 
was  well  furnifhed  with  books  of  pra6\ical  divinity. 
Here  llie  fpentfeveral  hours  in  reading  the  fcriptures, 
■with  fuch  other  books  as  were  calculated  to  illuftrate 
them,  and  promiOte  the  life  of  religion  ;  and  in  pray- 
er. She  likewife  prayed  cveiy  night  with  her  maid- 
fervants.  Thus  familiar  with  tlie  throne  of  grace, 
ilie  made,  as  miglit  be  cxpedcd;  great  progrefs  ia 
\ital  piety. 

Her 


Lady  Mary  Vere. 


75 


Her  love  to  God  manifefted  itfelf  in  her  fervent 
defires  to  depart  and  be  with  Chrift,  which  flic  ac- 
counted beft  of  all.  She  was  one  of  thofe  i^v/  Chrif- 
tians  who  ftood  in  need  of  the  exhortation  which 
Mr.  Dod  was  accuftomed  to  addrefs  to  faints  :  that 
*  they  fhouldbe  content  and  patient,  though  they  were 
not  taken  up  to  heaven  fo  foon  as  they  defired.'  Her 
faith  had  fuch  a  view  of  heaven,  as  rendered  her  ftay 
below  painful  and  wearifome.  The  earnefl  afpi ration 
of  her  foul  was  :  **  Come,  Lord  Jefus,  ccme  quick- 
ly !"  She  found  to  her  great  grief,  that  her  imper- 
fedions  made  it  impofiible  that  ilie  fhould  obey  and 
honor  God  in  this  world,  as  fhe  eurneuly  defired  to 
do.  She  often  and  bitterly  complained  of  her  un- 
profitablencfs,  of  which  fhe  had  a  deep  fenfe,  even 
while  others  admired  her  eminent  ufeiulnefs.  Hence 
her  defires  were  increafed,  to  arrive  at  that  world 
wliere  all  thefe  infirmitie?  and  defe6ls  would  be  no 
more,  and  where  her  wifhes  to  glorify  her  God  and 
Savior  without  imperfection,  would  be  fully  accom- 
plifhedo 

She  was  much  in  lamenting  the  feeblenefs  and  in- 
conftancy  of  her  love  to  God.  She  feemed  to  have 
fuch  elevated  apprehenfions  of  the  glorious  excellence 
of  the  divine  Majefty,  as  caufed  her  to  think  her 
higheft  affediions  unworthy  of  him.  None  v.  ho  have 
fuch  exalted  ideas  of  the  greatncfs  and  goodnefs  of 
God,  can  love  him  little,  or  think  their  love,  v/hen 
higheft,  to  be  great. 

Her  pious  heart  overflowed  with  love  to  Chriftians, 
becaufe  they  were  the  children  of  that  God  whom  flie 
loved  fupremely,  and  bore  his  bleifed  image.  She  was  • 
not  one  of  thofe  who  praifed  the  dead  faints/and  per- 
fecuted  the  living.  She  did  not  pretend  to  love  thofe 
who  lived  far  from  her,  and  withhold  her  kindnefs 
from  thofe  who  were  near.  She  did  not  confine  her 
affections  to  Chriftians  of  one  parly,  and  reproach 
thufe  cf  another.  Nor  did  Ihe  love  the  faints,  merely 

in 


7jS  Me-moirs  OF 

in  common  with  others,  from  a  natural  tenderner<:-of' 
difpofition,  or  during  the  tranfient  overflowings  o£ 
kindnefs  ;  but  her  love  was  a  fpecial,  fpiritual  ancT 
uniform  love  to  the  people  of  God.  In  whomfoever, 
fhe  faw  any  thing  ot  God,  her  heart  was  drawn  out 
to  them  :  and  her  love  was  moft  ardent  to  thofe  who 
difcovered  mod  of  God  in  them.  She  had  a  peculiar 
delight  in  converfe  and  communion  with  them,  and' 
diftinguiilied  them  by  the  largeft  meauires  of  her  li- 
berality. 

Few  ever  exceeded  her  in  loving  and  honoring  the 
faithful  minifters  of  Chrift.  Them  ilie  confidcred 
as  by  their  office  and  functions,  diftinguifhed  among, 
iheir  fellovv-Chriflians.  She  loved  firft  the  inftitu- 
tion,  and  then  the  miniilers  ;  declaring  that  theefteein 
and  affection  flie  bore  them  was  for  the  fake  of  Him' 
whofe  fervants  and  ambalfadors  they  were. 

She  was  diftinguillied  by  her  works  of  charity. 
Her  beneficence  was  fo  conllant  and  aftive,  that  it 
became  a  fubjed  of  admiration,  that  its  materials 
were  not  exhaufted.  She  imparted  to  the  poor,  not 
only  food  and  money,  with  an  unufual  generofity, 
but  likewife  when  ncceffary,  ir.edicine,  and  other  ac- 
commodations for  Hcknefs.  In  thefe  Vv'ays,  fhe  was  a. 
very  extenlive  benefactrefs  to  the  diftrcired.  She  was 
not  only  liberal,  but  devifed  liberal  things.  If  her 
fervants  knew  of  any  pcrfons  in  great  neceflity,  and' 
did  not  acquaint  her  with  their  cafe?,  and  fhe  was  af- 
terward informed  of  thefe  diftreifed  obje6ts,  fhe 
would  reprove  them  for  their  negle6t.  It  happened 
that  an  honefl:  poor  neighbor  died  before  fne  knew  of 
his  illnefs.  The  good  Lady  enquired,  v/ith  great  fo- 
licitude,  of  her  fervant  who  attended  her,  rcl peeling 
his  wants  and  fupplies  in  his  ficknefs  ;  adding  ;  **  I 
tell  you,  I  would  ratl^er  part  with  my  gown  from  olF- 
iny  back,  than  that  the  poor  fhould  want." 

Her  charity  was  fdent  and  unoltentatious.     What 
flie  gave  was,  frequently  known  only  to  herfelf,  and 

to 


Lady  Maky  Vere.  77 

to  that  God  ivho  Jeeih  in  fccret.  In  the  exercl fc  of 
her  beneficence,  Ihe  was  iimple  and  humble  ;  acknow- 
ledging that  what  (he  gave  was  not  her  own,  but  her 
Lord's  ,  feeling  her  dependence  on  mere  mercy,  and 
defiring  to  be  found  in  Chrift  alone,  and  in  his  riglite- 
oufnefs,  as  much  as  though  fhc  bad  not  done  a  fmgic 
good  work  in  all  her  life. 

She  maintained  a  habitual  and  fleady  walk  with 
God.  Hence  it  was,  that  there  appeared  in  her  re- 
ligion a  uniformi'^y  which  recommtrnded  it  to  all  a- 
roimd.  There  were  no  fuch  inequalities  in  her  con- 
verfation,  as  hypocrites  are  apt,  at  one  time  or  ether, 
to  betray;  but  one  part  admirably  corrcfponded  with 
iinot'oer.  There  w  as  3  villble  fymmetry  in  her  con- 
ducl,  as  well  in  regard  to  the  duties  of  the  fecond 
table  as  the  firft  ;  as  weii  at  home  as  abroad.  Few 
perfons  ha\e  had  a  more  honorable  tcllimony  from 
thofe  who  lived  near  them,  or  were  with  them  l'>ni^, 
than  this  eminent  woman  had  trom  thofc  who  lived 
under  her  roof.. 

Slie  was  favored  with  a  remarkable  flrength  and 
conftancy  of  faith.  Nor  was  Ihe  without  a  good  de- 
gree of  air.irance  refpecting  her  Hate,  efpecially  in 
the  concluding  part  of  her  life.  About  a  year  before 
flic  died,  (lie  fell  intoa'fvvoon,  which  continued  about 
l\alf  an  hour,  without  any  probable  appearance  of 
recovery.  As  foon  as  ilie  came  to  hcrfclf  (lie  joyful- 
ly exclaimed  :  **  I  know  that  my  Redeemer  liverh  :" 
:md  on  being  conveyed  to  her  cliniiibcr  (lie  added  : 
*'  I  know  whom  I  have  believed." 

The  crowning'part  of  this  pious  Lady's  charn61cr 
was  her  humility.  This  grace,  as  well  as  her  undif- 
iembling  fincerity,  appeared  in  the  great  freedom 
^vhich  (lie  permitted  and  encouraged  in  her  friends, 
of  fpeaking  to  her  of  whatever  they  faw  amifs  in  her. 
She  placed  a  lugh  value  on  the  privilege  of  having  a 
faithful  friend  ;  frequently  oblerving  that  *  others 
ri!\:,ht  fee  more  of  us   than  v/e  could"  of  ourfelves  ; 


78-  Memoirs  o-f- 

and  that  it  was  a  great  mercy  to  be  convinced  of  an^r 
fin.'  She  thought  meanly  of  herfelf.  She  faw  not 
how  brightly  her  face  Ihone,  though  others  could  not 
but  behold  and  admire  its  luftre.  Her  frequent  com- 
plaint was,  that  (lie  was  ufelefs,  and  did  no  good.  She 
was  much  in  fpeaking  of  her  imperfections  and- 
v/arits,  weaknefs  and  unworthinefs.  *'  I  abhor  my- 
felf,  indeed  I  do,"  was  her  frequent  exprelhon.  She 
was  eafy  of  accefs.  even  to  the  meaneil  who  came  in- • 
to  her  prefence  :  and  her  deportment  to  the  poorell 
around  her  was  full  of  courtefy  and  lowlinefs.  Otten 
when  her  fervants  had  well  performed  any  bunnefs 
fhe  had  ailigned  them,  Die  would  be  particular  in 
thanking  them.  To  whomfoever  Ihe  fpoke,  the  law 
of  kindnefs  was  on  her  tongue. 

Her  bright  and  long  day  had  a  mod:  agreeable  an^- 
happy  clofe.  It  might  be  truly  faid,  that  at  evening 
time  it  was  light.  In  her  laft  ficknefs,  her  pains  were 
llrong,  but  her  patience  was  ftronger.  Never  was 
fhe  heard  lo  murmur,  or  utter  an  exprelTion  of  im- 
patience. She  was  particular  in  jultiiying  God  in 
all  his  difpenfations  toward  lier.  She  was  much  in- 
admiration  and  praife  of  his  mercies,  even  amid  her 
acuteft  pains,  and  moil  didrefling  agonies.  In  the 
darkefl:  hours  of  nature,  and  with  the  Iharpeft  thorns 
C'f  affliction  at  her  breait,  ihe  could  utter  fongs  of 
thankfgiving  to  the  God  of  her  mercies. 

She  was  not  entirely  free  from  the  affaults  of  her 
grand  enemy  ;  but  he  came  only  to  be  repulfed  with 
iliame.  The  divine  armor  which  fhe  had  been  both- 
accudomed  and  fkilful  to  u{e  in  feafons  of  health,  did 
n-ot  fail  her  now.  The  lafl  words  which  were  ob- 
ferved  to  be  fpoken  by  her,  before  fhe  was  feized 
with  the  fatal  lethargy  which  in  two  days  brought  on 
the  diilbiution  of  her  weak,  worn-out  frame,  were. 
thefe  ;  *«  How  fliall  I  do  to  be  thankful  ?  How  fhall 
I.  do  to  praife  my  God  ?"  Thus  fhe  clofed  her  life  in 
the  excrcifeof  that  duty   vyhich  was  to  bq  her   con-- 

ilant^. 


Lady  Mary  Vere.  79 

.ftar.t,  endlefs  employment  and  happinefs  in  that  bet- 
ter life  on  which  flie  was  entering.  She  died  in  the 
lord,  December  25th,  167 1,  in  the  ninetieth,  it  not 
the  ninety-firit  year  ot  her  age.  God  gave  her  a  hr.^ 
life,  and  crowned  her  at  lait  with  hh  Jarcaticn, 

Her  remarkable  piety  is  amply  aitelted  by  thofe 
eminent  men,  Dr.  Sibbs  and  Mr.  Gnrnal.  The  form- 
er infcribed  to  her,  in  conjundlion  with  her  hufband, 
his  book  intitled  The  bruijed  reed.  The  latter,  in  his 
dedication  of  The  Chrljiian  in  complete  armory  ad- 
drelfcs  her  as  a  woman  who  admirably  vindicated  the 
iionor  of  religion,  by  the  amiable  iinirormity  of  her 
piety,  beneficence,  charity,  and  other  graces  which 
adorn  the  charadlcr  and  proftllion  of  the  Chriftian. 


The  PvIght  Honorable 
The  countess  of  SUFFOLK. 


T, 


HIS  Ladv  was  born  in  or  abont  t'ne  year 
i6'.7.  She  was  the  fccond  daughter  of  the  Earl  of 
ifolland,  and  was  married  vtry  young  to  Thcophilus, 
Earl  of  Suffolk. 

Her  powers  of  imagination,  judgment  and  memory 
were  extraordinary.  In  ihelaft  particular  *i\\^  was 
fo  happy,  that  (he  has  frequently  committed  to  writ- 
ing on  Monrjay,  the  fermon  which  flie  had  heard  the 
preceding  Lcrd*s  day,  and  this  nearly  in  the  very 
words  of  the  preacher.  She 


?o  Memoirs  of 

She  had  a  remarkable  government  of  her  pafiions. 
She  was  felclom  fo  angry  as  to  chide.  It  was  often 
remarked  that  there  was  nothing  in  which  Ilie  was 
more  urill<ilfu!,  efpccially  if  the  fubjefl  were  of  a 
temporal  nature'.  But  if  any  thing  that  concerned 
the  caufe  of  God  excited  her,  reprehenfions,  flie  would 
be  more  ferious,  and  often  rebuke  with  difpleafuic. 
An  oath,  a  profane  or  indecent  fpeech,  would  excite 
her  warm  indignation.  If  (he  was  acquainted  with 
the  offenders,  Ihe  did  not  fail  to  reprove  them  direct- 
ly. If  they  were  ftrangers,  Ihe  would  give  them  a 
check,  lefs  dire£l:,  but  not  lefs  effectual  ^  or  perhaps 
fiiew  her  difgulf  by  retiring. 

She  was  undiiTembling  toward  friends,  familiar 
toward  inferiors,  affable  and  acceffible  to  all.  In 
converfation,  her  words  were  often  gracious,  and  fea- 
fcned  with  fait.  In  friendlhip,  ihe  was  equally  con- 
ftant  and  ufeful,  being  willing  to  take  any  pains  for 
thofe  whom  (lie  efteemed.  She  was  very  unapt  to 
admit  ill  of  any,  of  whoni'fhe  had  once  conceived 
well.  Nothing  was  more  diltrefling  to  her,  than  to 
hear  an  nccufation  of  thofe  of  whom  (he  entertained 
a  good  opinion.  Her  fervants-  fared  not  the  worfe 
for  the  inferiority  of  their  ftations.  She  was  as  ten- 
der of  their*  errors,  as  of  thofe  of  her  friends  ;  and 
indeed  confidered  them,  efpccially  the  faithful  ar^d 
virti!ous,  as  no  other  than  humble  friends.  None 
had  a  livelier  fcnfe  of  rtilative  duties  ;  none  difcharg- 
ed  them  more  exemplarily,  than  Hie.  Her  hufoand, 
parent?,  kindred,  friends,  fervants,  neighbors,  were 
all  witnelTes  of  this  truth. 

Thefe  may  feemi  but  lucral  virtues  :  but  there  vt'as 
every  reafon  to  believe  that  in  her,  they  were  the  ef- 
fects of  a  gracious  difpofition  ;  and  that  flowing 
from  a  renewed  and  fandined  heart,  they  might  be 
properly  hd-^uztd  CLr'Jiian  graces.  There  was  full 
evidence  ihut  her  adicns  In  general,  in  which  there 

was 


The  Countess  of  Suffolk.  8i 

Tv-as  time  for  deliberation,  fpriing  from  a  confciencc 
^f  duty,  and  were  performed  as  in  the  fight  of  God. 

Hence  her  holy  fortitude  and  valor  for  the  truth. 
Shi  would  fuller  any  inconvenience,  rather  than  re- 
fort  to  dilfimulalion  of  any  kind,  or  permit  her  fer- 
vants  to  ufe  it.  The  intru.ions  of  company  Vvhen 
bufmefs,  and  efpecially,  when  the  exercifes  ot  re- 
ligion called  her,  were  not  a  little  troublefome,  but 
Hie  would  never  avoid  them  by  a  falfehood.  Slic 
v/ould  venture  on  any  rock  rather  than  this. 

Her  charity  was  great.  The  poor  and  diRrefied, 
v^hom  her  tender  heart  often  relieved,  bev.ailed  at 
her  death,  and  long  after,  the  lofs  they  had  fudained, 
and  thankfully  recognized  her  generohiy.  She  dil- 
tributed  her  bounty  without  the  leafl  olientation. — - 
Her  foul  feemed  compofed  of  Chriftian  kindnefs  and 
companion.  Though  ilie  had  a  perfect  government 
«t)f  her  other  paflions,  yet  her  benevolence  tind  pity 
governed  her.  If  any  in  want  intreat-ed  her  charity, 
when  fhe  was  from  home,  ihedid  not  excufe  herfelf 
by  faying  (though  it  was  fornetimes  the  cafe)  that  Ihc 
had  no  money  about  her  ;  but  borrowed  from  her  at- 
tendants, that  flic  mipht  contribute  fomethinc:  to  hec 
petitioners. 

But  her  liberality  in  her  walks  was  an  inconfide- 
rable  part  of  what  fhe  gave.  The  poor  whom  flic 
knew,  needed  not  come  to  her  to  implore  her  aid. — 
Shtfint  clothing,  focd,  medicine,  and  other  comftirtf, 
to  their  habitations,  if  they  had  any  ;  and  j)rovide(l 
houfes  for  fome  who  had  none.  Befide  thi«,  Ihc  often 
condefcended  to  vifit  thepoor,  that  lhen:ight  acquaint 
herfelf  more  particularly  ulth  their  pcrfuns  and  their 
wants. 

Her  charity  extended  beyond  the  hodies  of  the  poor. 
She  endeavored  to  relieve  and  benefit  their  /'julsy  by 
the  daily  prayers  flie  offered  on  their  behalf,  by  in- 
ilrudling  the  ignorant,  admcniihinr;  the  carelcfs,  and 
counfelling  the  f:rupL:luus. 

u  Another 


'62  ''  Memoirs  of 

Another  fpecics  of  charity  fhe  remarkably  exem- 
plified; that  of  forgiving  injuries,  which,  whether. 
They  arofe  from  mittake  and  inadvertence,  cr  from 
wilful  malice,  ilie  was  ever  ready  to  pardon.  Her 
memory  in  other  things  was  very  tenacious  \  but  here 
l"hc  feemed  to  have  no  memory  at  all.  Benefits,  kind- 
nelFes,  good  adions,  and  good  fpeeches were  engraven 
in  her  heart,  as  if  written  in  adamant,  never  to  be 
effaced  :  but  as  to  offences,  they  were  like  infcrip- 
lions  in  water.  An  unkindnefs,  indeed,  might  make 
for  the  time,  a  deep  impreflion  upon  her  fpirit  ;  a 
painful  wound  in  a  heart  where  all  things  were  fo 
contrary  to  it.  But  it  was  never  returned  by  any  thing 
fimilar. 

She  exhibited  lively  fymptoms  of  a  faith  and  hope, 
by  which  her  foul  afcended  above  all  fears  and  for- 
yows  into  the  bofom  of  Chriit.  Sometimes  indeed,  tl  e 
tenderndfs  of  her  mind  and  confcience  would  awak'  n 
her  fears  ;  but  by  felf-recolle£lion  and  more  attentive 
examination  of  her  ftate,  ^^aq,  was  generally  fo  favored 
as  to  conquer  them. 

In  thofe  fcafons  when  fhe  was  exercifed  with  for- 
rows,  they  gently  yielded  to  faith  and  patience,  with 
the  comforts  which  flie  was  accufiomed  to  derive 
from  the  divine  ilore-houfe.  When  her  only  fon  was 
in  the  agonies  of  death,  flie  fat  down  almofl  over- 
whelmed, having  poured  out  many  prayers  and  tears. 
When  fhe  found  that  he  was  gone,  having  given  a 
momentary  vent  to  the  forrows  of  nature,  fhe  took 
her  bible,  and  applied  herfelf  to  the  finging  of  pfalms, 
till  the  violence  of  her  grief  fubfided,  and  her  foul 
was  brought  to  a  cheerful  fubmiflion  to  the  will  of 
God. 

Above  all  her  other  graces,  the  fweet  and  lovely 
grace  of  humility  appeared  confpicuous.  It  was  a 
garment  which  clothed  her  from  head  to  foot  :  a  veil, 
through  which  all  the  other  ornaments  of  her  mind 
^one^vith  a  li^ftre  mollified,  yet  divinely  improved. 

PofieiTcd 


The  Countess  of  Suffolk.      83 

PoffefL^d  of  thefe  excellent  endowments  and  graces 
of  the  mind,  (he  exhibited  a  correfpondent  practice. 
None  or  her  talents  were  laid  up  in  a  napkin.  With 
the  utmoft  diligence  and  vigor  ine  improved  them, 
that  while  Ihe  made  her  own  calling  and  eledlion  fure, 
fhe  might  glorify  God  the  giver,  and  do  good  to  her 
fcllow-creatures  around  her. 

She  began  the  day  with  God  :  and  as  ihe  opened 
the  morning,  fo  (he  clofed  the  evening  with  devotion. 
As  Toon  as'lhe  awoke,  Ihe  went  into  her  clofet,  and 
perfumed  it  with  prayer  ;  reading,  at  tiie  fame  time, 
her  portion  in  the  bible,  v/hich  confifted  of  the  pfalms 
appointed  for  the  day  ef  the  month,  and  fix  chapicrs 
belide  :  intending  by  this  courfe,  to  read  the  whoio 
bible  over  twice  in  the  year.  This  fhe  did  not  fail  to^ 
accomplilh  for  the  lalf  feven  years  of  her  life.  If 
compelled  to  omit  her  nfual  portion  once  or  twice, 
fhe  proportionably  increafed  the  number.of  chapters 
the  next  opportunity. 

She  was  methodical,  as  well  as  diligent,  in  im- 
proving her  time  ;  carefully  allotting  the  proper  hours 
to  bufmcfs,  repafts,  reading  Sec.  Befide  her  daily 
reading  of  the  fcriptures,  (lie  employed  a  portion  of 
her  time  in  examining  ditlicult  paliages  by  Diodati's 
notes,  and  other  interpreters.  •  Finding  it  fometimes 
lefs  convenient  to  ilop  the  career  of  reading,  in  order 
to  explore  a  difficulty,  {he  fet  a  mark  when  it  occur- 
red, and  examined  it  at  her  leifure.  She  vM  like- 
wife  other  marks,  as  memorials  of  choice  places,  or 
of  paflages  adapted  to  particular  purpofes. 

Various  other  books  in  divinity  had  their  fliarc  of 
lier  attention.  Such  as  fupplicd  tood  to  her  foul,  and 
help  to  her  devotion,  Ihe  not  only  read,  but  ftudic  " 
and  digelfed. 

She  to  ik  great  delight  in    the    fabbath,   and    other 
fcafons  fet  apart   for  deviotion  ;  cfpecially  thofe   pre- 
vious to  the  facrament  of  the  Lord's   Supper.     This 
ordinance  (he  endeavored  to  partake  frequently;  find- 
ing 


§4  Memoirs  op 

ing  mtich  comfort  In  it,  and  iifing  great  care  ^nd  ftv 
jioufnefs  in  her  preparations  for  it. 

She  frequently  repeated  to  fome  of  her  familyvvhat 
Hie  remembered  of  the  fermon.s  which  (lie  heard,  of 
■which  (he  took  notes  from  the  lips  of  the  preacher. 
But  this  practice  fhe  dropped  after  a  time;  either 
finding  it  a  hindrance  to  her  devout  attention,  or  pre-, 
ferring  to  write  afterwards  from  memory. 

Notwithftanding  the  exemplary  holinefs  of  her  tem- 
per and  walk,  flie  was  at  times,  in  common  with  ma--, 
iiy  of  God's  children,  in  great  deje6fion  of  fpirit,  and 
j^arrafTed  with  fore  temptations  ;  particularly  a  few: 
\ears  before  her  deceafe.  From  thtfe  diflredesja  gra- 
cious God,  in  anfvver  to  her  prayers,  delivered  her  af- 
ter a  time,  granting  her  even  an  incrcafe  of  ChriUian 
confidence  and  comfort. 

Her  whole  life  might  be  flyled  a  conflant  medlta--. 
tion  on  death,  and  preparation  for  it.  No  v/onder 
then,  that  her  behavior  in  the  prof|)C(5l  of  death,  was 
ferene,  full  of  comfort,  and  worthy  the  CiiriOian. 

Apprehending  fome  danger  of  this  event,  flie  wiih 
^rreat  earneflnefs  intrcated  her  friends  to  conceal  no- 
thing, but  deal  plainly  with  her,  refpeding  her  con- 
dition. They  confeiTed  that  their  hopes  of  her  life 
were  fmall,  or  none,  apd  defired  her  to  fubmit  to  the 
will  of  God  in  her  diifolution. 

On  receiving  thds  intimation,  flie  difcovered  neither 
terror  nor  reludance.  She  fent  for  her  near  relatives 
r.nd  other  friends,  and  with  a  countenance  folemn  yet 
icrene,  took  an  affcdionate  leave  of  them.  She  be- 
oueathed  them  fpirirual  comforts,  fervent  prayers,  di- 
vine benedidions,  and  weighty  counfcls,  adapted  to 
<?ach  of  them,  efpeciaily  her  hnfband,her  children  and 
fervants,all  tending  to  dired  them  in  the  way  of  well- 
doing, that  fo  fhe  might  meet  them  again  in  glory  ; 
and  all  with  fuch  afFedion,  zeal,  courage,  and  fuch 
proofs  of  her  alTurance  that  flie  was  going  from  pains 
and  nnftries  to  the  celeflial  reft,  that  the  idea  gf  that, 

and 


The  Countess  of  Suffolk.  S5 

andof  her  afpeft,  could  never  be  effaced  from  their 
memories.  She  Teemed  like  Mofes  on  Mount  Piigah, 
or  like  Jacob  on  his  death-bed,  diiiributing  bleliings 
around  him. 

One  who  Ihould  have  feen  her  deareil:  friends  and 
relatives  around  her,  full  of  tears  and  lamentations, 
and  herfelf  unmoved,  counfelling,  comforting,  blelT- 
ing  them,  would  have  been  ready  to  think  that  they 
were  to  die,  and  that  llie  was  giving  them  Chriftiaii 
exhortation  and  comfort.  Her  confidence  in  God,  and 
her  joy  in  the  holy  Gholl  were  fuch,  that  it  feemed 
as  if  the  anticipation  of  death  had  given  her  a  lalle  ot 
the  happinefs  of  the  life  to  come. 

The  legacy  flie  left  for  her  two  dear  children,  was 
her  defire  to  their  father,  that  whatever  outward  pro- 
vifion  he  made  for  them,  for  which  llie  was  not  anx- 
ious, they  might  be  educated  in  the  firii^efl:  way  of  re- 
ligion. The'ftrideft  way  fhe  had  found  bed:  tor  her- 
felf in  life  ;  and  at  death,  flie  recommended  it  for  thofe 
whom  fhe  moft  tenderly  loved. 

After  declaring  her  reliance  on  the  merits  ot  Chrifi, 
and  her  afl'urance  of  his  love,  fhe  intimated  the  douhto 
with  which  fhe  had  wrcfl:lcd,and  the  fears  fliehad  en- 
tertained, refpecling  the  fincerity  of  her  repeniancc. 
She  (poke  of  the  comfort  fne  had  enjoyed  at  her  la!^ 
facramental  feafon  ;  and  declared  that  her  f.^rcatefl:  bur- 
den was,  that  though  fhe  was  willing,  to  die,  fhe  rillo 
found  in  her  heart  a  willingncfs  to  live,  whicii  Ihe 
feared  was  too  great* 

It  feemed  good  to  her  heavenly  Father,  at  this  time, 
to  reftore  h.er  aimoft  from  the  brink  of  the  grave,  and 
continue  her,  very  unexpectedly,  lix  monihs  longer. 

This  prolongation  of  her  life  feemed  a  great  mercy 
to  her  father,  who  about  this  time  was  arraigned  be- 
iore  the  high  Court  of  Juftice  (more  properly  ftyled, 
oi  Ifiju/ticc)  errcled  by  the  Parliament  ;  and  condemn- 
ed to  die.  In  his  aHIiclion,  he  received  inexprefiib!. 
comfort  fro!n  liis  pious  daughter.  When  all  hopes  o^ 
H  2  ^  hiii 


86  Memoirs  of 

liis  life  were  banifjied,  fiie  repeatedly  vifited  him  in 
prifon,  and  even  watched  all  night  in  a  room  adjoin- 
ing his,  that  (lie  might  be  near  him  in  the  morning* 
In  converfing  with  him.  on  religion,  flie  propofed  fuch 
prudent  and  fearching  quefcionsjfo  judicioufly  applied 
both  law  and  gofpel,  fo  gently  wounded,  and  then  fo 
liindly  endeavored  to  heal,  that  her  father,  being  at 
length  much  comforted,  exclaimed,  **  Mappy  I,  that 
1  (hould  receive  from  a  child  of  my  own,  fuch  confoi- 
stion  !"  He  likewife  faid  to  a  divine  who  vifited  him^ 
that  he  thanked  God,  he  had  a  child  who  was  able  to 
i)e  his  counfellor  in  all  his  doubts. 

The  diftrefling  ilroke  of  her  father's  death,  file  bore 
T/ith  much  Chritlian  patience  ;  acknowledging  it  the 
wife  method  of  Almighty  God  to  beftow  mercy  on  a 
foul  which,  had  it  been  exempted  from  fo  great  a  ca- 
lamity, and  ftill  converfant  with  fcenes  of  profperity 
and  temptation,  might  never  fo  earneftly  and  humbly 
}iave  fought  Him.  She  declared  that,  thinking  as  flie 
thought, ""(lie  could  not,  even  if  it  were  lawful,  wifh 
him  alive  again  :  Ibe  dared  not  defire  for  him  fo  bad  a 
change,  as  to  leave  heaven  for  earth.  Yet  it  v/as  well 
known  that  her  afFcclion  for  him  had  been  uncom- 
monly tender  and  ftrong. 

She  told  a  friend  that  now,  if  God  would  give  her 
]!uave,  fhe  would  retire  into  the  country,  having,  as  flie 
iaiJ,  fo  difpofed  her  family  bufinefs,  that  (l^.e  would  have 
jiothing  to  do,  but  to  be  ready  to  die.  Thofe  vv'ho  had 
cpportunity  to  know,  obferved,  that  during  the  fix 
months  which  fuccceded  her  dangerous  ficknefs,  there 
was  not  a  night  in  which  fhe  rofe_from  her  clofet  de- 
Totions  without  an  ovcrilov/ing  of  tears. 

In  a  difcourfe  with  a  miniil:er,  to  whom  fhe  with 
great  phinnefs  opened  her  fpirivr>al  condition,  flie 
charged  iiim  to  deal  feverely  and  impartially  with  her, 
5ind  itill  would  urge  him  again  and  again,  befeeching 
him  to  let  her  know  the  worft ,  and  cxpreffing  her  fear 
that  he  dealt  more  gently  with  her,  than  he  would  with 
another.  I^^f 


The  CouKTESs  OF  Suffolk.  S7 

Hor  laft  ficknefs  feized  her  intelkas  for  feme  days 
before  her  death.  Yet  flie  had  fome  lucid  intervals. 
In  one  of  thefe,  fhe  poured  out  her  foul  in  a  large 
prayer,  confiding  of  very  fervent,  melting  expreffions, 
£ts  if  (he  would  feize  the  kingdom  of  heaven  by  an 
irreliftible,  yet  humble  violence  ;  pleading  before  God, 
Ills  name,  his  attributes,  his  mercies,  his  Chrift,  and 
his  promifes,  which  fhe  drew  from  every  part  of  his 
word.  This  feemed  the  lafl:  confiderablc  interval  of 
reafon  ;  excepting  that  after  her  ftrength  was  much 
fpent,  file  recognifed  her  friends  when  they  came  to 
her,  fignified  to  them  her  aiTurance  of  her  iiitereft  in 
Chrilt,  and  joined  very  attentively  in  prayer  with  one 
•whom  llie  defired  to  perform  that  office.  About  an 
hour  afterward,  in  a  kind  of  quiet  fleep,  fiie  yielded 
her  fpirit  to  her  G'jd,  Mdy  10,  1649  ;  moil  tenderly 
lamented  by  her  friends,  to  whom  Ihe  had  been  incx- 
preffibly  dear  and  delightful. 

As  in  youth,  (he  had  her  convcrfation  much  in  hea- 
ven, and  feemed  early  ripe  for  it,  (lie  was  privileged 
with  an  early  adniifhon  to  its  joys,  iihe  dropped  mor- 
tality at  the  age  of  twenty-two. 


LADY    MARY    ARMYNE. 


JL  HIS  Lady  was  a  branch  of  the  ilhiflriciis 
family  of  Talbots.  Her  natural  abilities  wejc  great. 
She  had  a  comprehenfive  and  vigorous  undcrflanding, 
even  to  the  lail  hours  of  her  life.  Though  above  four- 
fc^re  years  of  age,  flie  could  difcourfe  with  great 
ilrength  of  reafon,  on  the  day  of  her  death. 

She 


S^'^  Memoirs  o^ 

She  er.rly  acquired  thofe  accomplifhments  wliicH 
were  fuitabie  for  her  fex  and  ftation.  She  v/as  ac- 
quainted with  divinity,  not  only  pradlical,  but  con- 
troverfial  ;  with  ecclefiadical  affairs  ;  with  the  French 
and  Latin  languages  ;  with  hi  (lory,  efpecially  the  hif- 
torical  part  of  the  fcriptures.  She  underftood  the 
management  of  domeftic  concerns.  In  her  deport- 
ment, ihe  was  very  engaging.  By  the  condefcenfion 
and  courtefy  of  her  manners,  flie  won.the  afteclion  of 
all  with  whom  (he  converfed. 

To  crown  all,  her  life  was  eminently  holy  and  ex- 
emplary. Her  genius,  knowledge  and  politenefs  were 
ennobled  and  adorned  by  religion. 

She  loved  it  in  others.  She  loved  fuch  as  led  a  holy 
life.  She  could  not  be  eafy  in  the  company  of  thofc 
whofe  converfatlon  fliewed  them  deftitute  of  the  fear 
of  God.  She  valued  holinefs,  not  only  in  her  own 
family,  choofing  her  fervants  by  this  qualification,  but 
in  whomfoever  ihe  faw,  its  marks  and  expreflions, 
though  they  were  the  greateft  Grangers — a  happy 
evidence  that  flie  loved  it  for  its  own  fake. 

She  endeavored  to  promote  godlinefs  in  others,  not 
only  by  often  dropping  ferious  exhort?.tion  and  coun- 
fel  in  her  converfations  with  them,  but  by  many  pious 
letters  wliich  flie  wrote  them*  She  frequently  diirrib- 
uted  good  books  to  thofe  about  her ;  and  fne  gave  large 
fums  annually  ie)r  carrying  on  the  defign,  commenced 
in  New-England,  for  converting  the  Indians.  Nor 
did  Ihc  dlfcontinue  this  important  charity,  to  her  dy- 
ing day. 

When,  in  the  year  1662,  feveral  hundreds  of  pious 
rriinifters  were  ejccled  from  their  livings,  to  the  great 
dirtrcfs  of  their  families,  her  compaflion  and  fyrnpa- 
thy  were  mofi;  powerfully  excited.  A  lew  days  alter 
the  melancholy  event,  {he,\vent  to  the  Rev.  Mr.  Cal- 
aray,  and  committed  to  him  five  hundred  pounds,  to  be 
diit'ribr.ted  to  thofe  among  them,  whole  fufferings  and 
v/ants  were  moll  preffing. 

She 


Lady  Mary  Armyne.  §9 

Slic  was  accuftomed  to  retire,  at  lead  twice  every 
day,. for  reading  the  Icriptures,  with  other  piousbooks, 
and  for  fecret  prayer  :  a  pra6lice  in  which  fhe  con- 
tinued to  the  end  of  life. 

It  was  her  joy  to  embrace  every  opportunity  cf 
joining  in  the  wor(hip  of  God,  whether  public  or  pri- 
vate, ordinary  or  cccafional.  The  ardor  which  others 
devote  to  worUlly  pleafures  and  piirfr.its,  was  confe- 
crated  by  her,  to  the  duties  and  ordinances  of  religion. 
Her  deportment  in  the  fan61uary  was  exemplarily  fe- 
lious  and  humble.  Nor  did  fhe,  en  any  occafion, 
mention  the  name  of  God,  or  of  Chriil,  wi.hoiit  a  rev- 
erential awe  upon  lier  fpirit. 

She  highly  elleemed  godly  miniilers.  She  maniftft- 
«d  a  great  refpe6l  even  to  thofe  of  the  lowed  grade, 
nnd  meaned  gifts,  if  fhe  obferved  them  to  be  pious, 
«nd  diligent  in  their  facred  calling. 

Her  cliarity  was  eminent  and  ad ive.  In  adiliuon 
to  the  indances  already  given,  fhe  ereded  and  endow- 
ed alm:-houfes  in  three  feveral  counties.  When  oc- 
cafion  called,  her  donations  to  charitable  ufes  were 
large.  As  die  was  not  weary  of  well-d-jing  while  fhe 
lived,  die  left,  at  her  death,  a  confiderable  annuity  to 
be  employed  for  benevolent  purpofes. 

Though  die  defccnded  from  an  ancient  and  honor- 
able family  attached  to  the  Romidi  religion,  yet  God 
•was  h:-r  teacher,  and  confirmed  her  not  only  in  the 
principles  of  Protedantifm,  but  in  the  love  and  feri- 
ous  pradice  of  the  religion  die  profeffed.  She  v/as 
rot  a  formalid,  zealonfly  contending  fr  truth,  while 
deditute  of  its  faving  in'duence.  She  did  not  thmk 
■with  thofe  who  condder  it  as  a  mark  of  Chrilf's  difci- 
pies  to  be  acciijers  of  the  brethren;  and  who  are  ready 
to  pronounce  their  fellow-profedors  to  bo  no  Chrif- 
tians,  that  they  rr ay  treat  them  ill  wiih  kfs  dilhonor 
and  remorfe.  The  only  war  which  die  declared,  was, 
viih  the  world,  the  fledi  and  th?  devil. 

Sh^. 


go  MexVOIrs  of 

She  v/as  not  "attached  to  feels  or  novelties  in  religion, 
under  pretence  of  rifln^;to  the  highelt  grade  among 
Chridlans.  She  confuL-rcd  the  height  or  religion  as 
confiding  in  an  ardent  love  to  God  and  man  ;  in  a 
fimple,  conftant  reliance  on  the  merits  aiid  mediation 
of  Chrill:,  and  a  ileadiaft,  exemplary  obedience  to  his 
will. 

Thoi]£:h  file  lived  in  a  ftyle  correipondent  with  her 
rank,  and  eihite,  v»-hich  was  opulent,  yet  Ihe  habitual- 
ly manifcfted  great  meeknefs  and  iowlinefs  of  mind. 
Her  prudence,  fcbriety  and  gravity  were  exemplary  : 
nor  was  htr  impaniality  in  loving  all  v.'hom  iiie 
judged  to  be  true  Chriftians,  lefs  remarkable. 

Though  fincerely  an  enemy  to  a  dividing  and  fa6ii- 
ous  fpirit,  fns  did  not  confider  it  a  countenancing  of 
fchirm,to  relieve  fuch  fervants  of  Chrill  in  their  dif- 
trefs,  as  were  branded  by  many  oi^  her  time,  as  here- 
tics and  fchifmatics. 

In  fliort,  her  \vhole  fpirit  and  life  were  a  beautiful 
and  Ibiking  comment  on  the  defcription  of  the 
Apoflle  Jam.es.  "  The  wifdom  that  is  from  above, 
is  firtf  pure,  then  peaceable,  gentle,  eafy  to  be  intrear- 
ed,  full  of  meicy  and  good  fruits,  without  partiality, 
and  without  hypocrify  :  And  the  fruit  of  rightecuf- 
nefs  is  fown  in  peace  of  them  that  make  peace." 

To  live  as  this  trulv  honorable  and  excellent  wo- 
man lived,  in  wifdom,  humility,  temperance,  in  a 
charitable,  peaceable,  and  impartial  piety,  attending 
to  the  great  realities  of  religion,  God,  the  Redeemer, 
grace,  glory,  our  own  hearts,  our  duty,  and  prepara- 
tion for  the  day  of  final  account,  w^ill  prove  more  fafe 
ancl  comfortable,  at  lau,  than  the  proud,  wrathful,  tur- 
bulent religion  (as  it  is  fometimes  abfurdly  ilyled)  of 
fuch  as  v/ould  fet  up  Chriif  and  his  Church,  or  rather 
themfelves,  by  perfecuting,  hurting  and  delUoying 
their  fellow-Chriflians,  or  avoiding  them,  as  unwor- 
thy their  communion, 

•  As 


Lady  Mary  Armyne.  9r 

As  file  lived  to  God  in  an  eminent  degree,  Co  He 
was  pleafed  to  indulge  her  a  long  life,  enriched  with 
many  and  diftinguifhing  mercies.  Though  ihe  was 
long  affiicied  with  an  excrucia-ing  diforder,  which 
probably  laid  the  foundation  for  her  dilTolution,  yet 
ijie  had  remarkable  relief  and  exemption  from  it  in 
the  clofmg  period  of  her  life  :  fo  that  near  her  eighti- 
eth year,  ihe  enjoyed  much  health,  and  ferenity  of 
mind. 

A  learned  and  pious  minii^^ei  who  lived  near  her, 
has  left  his  teftimony  concerning  her  in  the  following 
terms.  **  The  converfe  I  had  wiib  her,"  fays  he, 
^'  afforded  me  opportunity  to  know  he:  more  inti- 
mately than  many  who  only  faw  he:  h  )\y  courfe  ;  for 
her  bufmefs  with  me  v/as  no  other  iiis.i  ;o  open  the 
flats  of  her  foul,  to  confefs  her  infirmities,  to  produce 
her  evidences  for  heaven,  and  to  dehre  my  judgment 
of  them,  together  with  my  counfel  and  comh^rt  ;  and 
farther  to  afk  my  advice  for  fuch  v/orks  of  public  ben- 
efit as  (lie  charitably  intended,  and  afterward  liberally 
perform.cd.  Upon  trial,  I  found  that  flje  had  a  fafe 
and  well-fettled  (late  of  foul,  not  tree  from,  all  degree 
of  fears,  and  fmaller  doi-btings  oF  herfelf,  and  far  from 
a  prefumpiuous,  unhuinbled  and  f^fif-jufiifying  fpirit. 
Her  evidences  were  found,  and  her  difcernm.ent  of 
them  fo  clear  and  fure,  as  enabled  her  to  conclude  her 
right  to  everlafting  life,  and  fo  with  the  greater  peace 
to  think  on  death  :  which  evidences,  as  Ihc  had  open- 
ed them  to  me,  not  long  before,  fo  (he  did  it  over  a- 
gain  in  her  ficknefs,  not  many  days  before  her  death. 
At  which  time,  after  complaints  of  fuch  impcrfecf  ions 
of  grace  as  were  her  trouble,  (lie  prcfefled  the  full  de- 
dication of  herfelf  to  God,  her  firm  confent  to  his  cov- 
enant, her  earneft  defires  after  perfect  holinefs,  and 
her  truft  in  the  mediation  and  merits  of  her  Redeemer. 

In  the  ficknefs  of  which  flic  died,  fhe  gave  many 
finiihing  proofs  of  the  fincerify  of  her  religion  :  fucli 
a«  the  fervor  of  her  fpirit  to  pcrfeve-re  in  v/ell-doi 


"S 


ijZ  .WEMCIRS    OF 

to  the  end— her  breathin:^  after  Chrii>,and  Jefiringto 
be  dhrolv'ej  a.iJ  be  with  him,  as  the  happieil  of  all  — 
her  deep  ar.d  painiiil  fcnle  of  the  low  llate  of  religion, 
and  the  proftinon  of  it  in  the  world —  her  fubmiliion 
to  the  divine  will  anddifpofal ;  freely  fur  rendering  up 
herfelf  to  her  fovercign  Lord  and  Proprietor,  that  he 
might  do  with  her,  in  life  or  death,  as  he  pieafed— her 
peace  of  confcience  :  (in  former  ficknelies  Hie  had  en- 
joyed much  fcrenity,  but  never  a  more  placid  and  re^ 
figned  frame  of  foul,  than  at  this  feafcn}  — htr  faith, 
and  love  to  Chriil,  manifcikd  in  her  reccrr. mending 
an  intcreft  in  him,  as  the  belt  of  cordials  in  a  faintiui; 
hour,  when  other  comforts  forfake.  Some  of  her  lait 
words  were  to  this  purpofe.  Her  fervent  prayers  ccn- 
tinaed  to  tije  end  ;  in  the  midll  of  which,  llie  fweetly 
breathed  out  her  fpirit  into  the  bofom  of  her  God. 


The  Right  Hoxoraele 
LADY  ELIZABETH  1.ANGHAM. 


T, 


HOUGH  her  ccicrl.t    \N  :i-^  Ki-.-UiuU^,   ii;C 

was  never  known  to  betray,  either  in  words  cr  de- 
portment, that  ihe  valued  lurfelf  on  this  circumifance, 
vr  regretted  her  being  exceeded  in  wealth  and  fpien- 
d<  r  by  others  inierior  in  rank.  If  her  hufband.  Sir 
James  Langham,  ever  fpokeof  the  fmallnefs  of  his 
torture,  when  compared  with  that  oi  her  ov.'n  family, 
fhe  ii:terr'"3tfi  hini  b^  cynrclling  hcf  fatisfaclion  and 

oiatitude 


Ladv  Elizabeth  Lakgham.  93 

gratitude  at  finding  heiTelf  pofTeiTed  not  only  of  aa 
honorable  competence,  but  of  liberty  and  aid  for  the 
works  of  piety  and  benevolence. 

She  was  educated  with  great  care  and  fuccefsbyher 
eminently  pious  mother,  the  Counrcfs  of  Huntingdon. 
With  her,  fae  enjoyed  a  religious  retirement,  for 
\Thich  fhe  frequently  blefied God,  as  that  which  fecur- 
cd  her  not  only  from  temptations  to  vice,  but  from 
the  knowledge  of  it. 

Her  mother,  that  The  might  the  more  effectually 
infinuate  the  principles  of  religion  into  her  heart  and 
memory,  was  at  the  pains  to  digefl  her  indructions 
into  verfe.  Nor  was  her  labor  without  a  rich  re- 
ward in  the  docility  and  improvement  of  her  lovely 
pupil.  The  f^ted  thus  carefully  fown,  feemed  early 
to  produce  net  only  the  bloiToms,  but  the  fruits  of 
piety.  In  her  childhood,  (he  m.anifelled  a  tender- 
nefs  in  refpecl  to  duty,  a  folemn  reverence  of  God« 
and  his  holy  day  ;  on  which  ftie  would  neither  dlU 
courfe  herfelf,  on  any  common  topics,  nor  willing- 
ly hear  orhers.  As  her  capacity  expanded,  (he  took 
great  delight  in  hearing  the  word  preached,  and  wa? 
careful  to  digelt  it,  by  meditation,  and  converfe  with 
otliers. 

From  her  infancy,  (he  was  dutiful  to  her  parents, 
even  to  the  fm.alleft  punctilio  in  which  their  pleafure 
•was  intimated.  Her  mother  v/as  heard  to  fav  that 
(he  never  offended  her  in  all  her  life.  Perceiving 
her  once  to  be  more  affeSed  than  (lie  wifhed,  in  con- 
fequence  of  having  rnifapprehended  fome  advice  (he 
had  given  her,  (he  found  it  necefTary  to  comfort  her 
^vith  this  explanation  :  thatfeveral  things  which  (he 
had  fpoken  to  her,  were  not  intended  as  conima?ids^ 
but  as  counfels,  which  in  things  indifferent  were  not 
indifpcnfable. 

As  (he  advanced,  (he  was  obferved  to  be  very  exact 
in  things  of  a  moral  nature,  efpecially  in  keeping  her 
Word  j  to   accomplifb   which  v/ith  'more  certainty. 


«4  Memoirs  o? 

file  was  very  cautious  and  fparing  in  her  promifes. 
Indeed,  on  fubjecls  in  general,  fhe  leaned  fb  much 
more  to  filence  than  loquacity,  that  a  pcrfon  of  piety 
and  judgment,  intimately  acquainted  with  her,  obfer- 
'ved  that  *  flie  believed  this  lady  had  the  lead  account 
to  give  for  words,  of  any  that  ihe  ever  knew.'  This 
caution  was  owing  neither  to  want  of  talents,  nor  of 
anatter  for  converfation  ;  for  fhe  poireiled  great  intel- 
leclual  flrength  and  acquirements. 

She  was  modeft  and  grave  in  her  whole  demean- 
or, not  from  a  defe£i:  of  fprightlinefs,  or  of  good  hu- 
mor, but  from  a  juft  fenfe  of  what  was  demanded  by 
the  dignity  of  her  fex,  and  of  virtue.  She  difplayecl, 
at  the  fame  time,  her  affability  and  condefcenfion  in 
kindly  receiving  the  vifits,  even  of  the  meaneft  of  her 
neighbors,  and  freely  converfing  with  them.  As  any 
of  them  favored  more  of  godlinefs,  Ihe  increafed  her 
familiarity  ;  ftudioufly  declining  to  admit  any  to  her 
frienddiip,  till  by  accurate  obfervation  {he  had  found 
them  to  anfwer  that  character  of  worth  by  which  it 
■was  her  plan  to  choofe  iier  friends  ;  not  that  oi greats 
ncjs^  but  goodnejs. 

She  was  fo  courteousto  all  claffes  of  perfons,  andcf- 
pecially  to  fuchas  were  petitioners  for  her  bountv,that 
what  was  faid  of  a  Roman  Emperor,  might  with  great 
truth  be  faid  of  her — I'sone  zvcnt  from  her prefence  dif- 
cmtented.  Even  thofe  to  whom  fhe  declined  giving 
alms,  (lie  fo  handfomely  reproved,  for  not  ufing  their 
flrength  to  help  themfelves  in  a  more  creditable  way, 
that  they  feemed  to  go  away  fcarce  lefs  fatisfied  with 
her  advice,  than  they  would  have  been  with  her  boun- 

The  poor  had  fuch  confidence  In  her  goodnefs,  and 
fhe  fo  tenderly  felt  for  their  dlftreiTes,  that  fhe  was 
frequently  employed  in  applying  in  their  behalf  to 
fome  of  her  relations,  on  whom  they  depended  :  in 
which   cafes,  the  prudence  of  her   conduct,   and  the 

blefTmg 


Lady  Elizabeth  Langham  95 

Lleffing  of  God  attending  her  humane  endeavors,  gen- 
erally enfured  fuccefs. 

Her  fervants  {hared  in  her  condefcenfions  ;  for 
though  fhe  underdood  her  own  place  and  theirs,  yet 
fuch  mildncfs  and  prudence  were  mingled  in  her  treat- 
ment of  them,  that  (lie  was  never  known  to  utter  a 
haliy  or  palhonate  exprefiion  to  any  of  them,  though 
file  had  fometimes  great  provocation. 

So  peculiarly  innocent  was  her  deportment,  even 
from  childhood,  that  one  of  great  integrity  was  led  to 
remark  that  *  during  the  fpace  of  ten  years  in  which 
fhe  lived  in  her  mother's  tamily,  flie  could  never  ob- 
ferve  in  this  lady  any  unbecoming  word  or  adion,  or 
any  thing  which,  if  the  whcl:  world  had  been  acquaint- 
ed with  it,  would  have  tended  to  her  jull  difparagc- 
ment.' 

She  ftudied  much  to  pleafe  thofc  with  whom  fhe 
converfed,  fo  far  as  was  allowable.  If  a  friendly  de- 
bate occurred,  Ihe  was  far  from  tenacious  of  her  own 
opinion  ;  and  refpedtully  yielded  to  the  judgment  of 
others,  if  plain  truth  or  duty  did  not  forbid  it. 

As  a  friend  (he  eminently  (hone.  She  was  not 
hafty  in  admitting  any  to  lier  bofom  ;  but  having  done 
it  once,  flie  was  unfufpicious,  noble,  generous,  and 
particularly  unrcfcrved  in  communicating  whatever 
judgment  di6lated  as  mofi  conducive  to  their  bed  ben- 
efit, whether  it  were  advice,  comfort  or  reproof.  For 
this  laft,  at  once  the  mod  painful  and  mod  benevolent 
aft  of  frienddiip,  flie  always  referved  a  liberty,  even 
in  regard  to  her  mod  valued  friends  :  performing  it 
with  great  tendernefs,  but  with  the  mod  confcien- 
tious  fidelity. 

To  none  was  fhe  more  rigid  than  to  hcrfelf.  Her 
life  was  a  comment  on  the  Apodolic  injunction  :  "See 
that  ye  walk  circumfpeclly."  She  avoided  not  only 
what  fhe  condemned  in  others,  but  what  ih^Jufpeilcd 
to  be  amifs.  Nor  would  fhe  pardon  in  herfelf,  that 
which  her  charity  induced  her  to  hope  well  of  in  thenu 

So 


^6  Memoirs  of 

So  uncommonly  tender  was  her  conTGience,  that  fhd 
took  the  alarm  at  the  remoteft  appearance  of  fin. 
Two  inftances  Pnall  be  given  out  of  many.  When 
iittle  more  than  a  child,  Ihe  one  day,  in  great  affiic- 
lion,  and  with  tears  in  her  eyes,  addreffed  her  govern- 
efs,  intreating  her  to  forgive  her,  becauje  Jhe  knezo 
that  in  her  childhoodyfie  had  been  wa.Jit'mg  in  affe^ion. 
to  her,  and  vjas  afraid  jhe  did  not  love  her. — In  more 
jnature  age,  having  once  threatened  a  child,  of  whom 
ihe  had  fome  care,  that  if  fae  did  not  do  fuch  a  thing, 
/he  zvQuId  not  Jove  her,  file  immediately  recalled  the 
cxpreffionas  too  harfhy  faying,  *'  Alas  !  God  deals  not 
fo  with  us,  notwkhrtanding  our  continual  difobedi- 
•ence.' 

As  (he  grew  in  years,  flie  gr^w  in  grace  ;  increaf- 
ing  her  acquaintance  with  God,  by  a  conftant  corref- 
ipondence  and  communion  with  him.  So  frequent 
were  her  devotions,  that  her  mother,  one  day,  appre- 
henfive  of  her  health,  told  her,  that  if  that  was  to  be- 
!her  way,  ihe  was  not  fit  to  live  in  this  world.  She 
jneekly  replied,  (taking  her  mother's  exprefi!ion  in  a 
different  fenfe  from  what  was  intended]  **  No  indeed, 
madam,  I  confefslam  not.'* 

Amid  the  cares  and  duties  of  a  married  life,  her  de- 
votion continued  the  fame.  Her  prayers,  like  thofc 
of  Daniel,  were  offered  three  times  in  the  day  ;  and 
the  latter  part  of  her  life,  ftill  more  frequently. 

Her  time  in  the  clofet  was  employed  not  only  in 
prayer  and  meditation,  but  likewife  in  the  ftudy  of 
the  fcriptures,  and  the  perufal  of  books  of  pra6tical 
divinity.  She  read  a  fermon  every  day,  generally 
out  of  her  note-books,^  for  fhe  conftantly  took  down 
the  fermons  Ihe  attended  ;  by  which  practice,  and  by 
frequent  inculcation,  (lie  fixed  in  her  memory  the  moll 
which  fhe  heard,  and  had  it  in  readinefs  for  occafion- 
alufe.  ,  A 

As  in  this  way,  and  by  a  diUigent  application  Jb. 
^he  other  duties  of  life,  flie  was  an  eminent   example 


Lady  Elizabeth  Langham.  97 

of  redeeming  time,  (lie  could  have  little  opportunity 
ior  thofe  amufements  which  where  curtomary  among 
perfons  of  her  ftation.  And  flie  had  as  little  in- 
clination. They  were  againft  her  confcience  :  for 
file  doubted  whether  the  expenfe  of  fo  much  time  as 
they  generally  con  fume,  would  be  allowed  on  the 
great  day  of  her  audit. 

She  highly  efteemed  every  part  of  the  holy  bible  ; 
and  very  particularly  the  book  of  Pfalms.  One  or 
more  of  them  fhe  conftantly  read  or  heard,  at  her  hour 
of  repofe  in  the  evening,  which  by  meditation  and 
difcourfe,  file  improved  to  the  bcnent  of  herfelf  and 
thofe  about  her.  She  likewife  repeated  a  pfalm  from 
memory  at  lying  down  in  bed,  and  another  at  riling 
in  the  morning. 

At  all  times,  in  all  emergencies,  fhe  was  felicitous 
to  know  her  duty,  in  order  to  practice.  She  made 
God's  teftimonies  not  only  her  dellghi  but  her  counfcU 
lors.  Nor  would  file  determine  any  doubtful  matter 
of  importance,  but  with  the  beft  attainable  light,  and 
the  greateft  deliberation. 

She  was  regular  in  her  attendance  on  public  ordi- 
nances. And  that  file  might  make  the  beft  ufe  of 
good  miniifers,  flie  wouIdy>^^  the  law  at  their  mouth 
ill  private,  as  well  as  in  pubic.  When  llie  met  with 
divines  of  eminence  at  the  houfe  of  Sir  John  Lang- 
ham,  her  father-in-law,  fhe  would  defire  her  hufband 
to  propofe  feme  profitable  difcourfe,-  which  might 
give  the  company  the  advantage  of  their  converfation  ; 
obferving  that  it  feemed  quite  incongrous  that  Phy- 
ficians  and  Lawyers  fhould  be  fo  commonly  entertain- 
ed with  fubjeds  fuited  to  their  refpedive  fundicns, 
and  that  Divines  alone  lliould  be  prefented  with  to- 
pics out  of  the  line  of  their  profeflion,  and  perhaps 
very  unfuitable  to  it. 

She  w^as  a  pattern  of  fecial  and  relative  duty.     Her 
Iiufband  had    the  chief  place   in  her  afFedions.      She 
loved  him   with  equal  tcndcrnefs  and   flrength.     To 
I   ^  his 


9^  Memoirs  o? 

his  wifhes  flie  was  greatly  attentive.  Every  re- 
<juefl:  from  him,  and  every  intimation  of  a  requeft,  had 
with  her  the  force  of  a  command.  She  v/as  his  friifid, 
and  mod  delightful  companion  ;  capable  of  converf- 
ing  both  on  points  of  divinity  and  general  literature, 
and  acquainted  with  ff^veral  languages  befide  her  own. 
Amid  thefe  rare  accomplifliments,  fhe  was  humble 
jindmeek  ;  exhibiting  none  of  the  difagreeables  which 
fome  have  thought  infeparable  from  a  learned  wife.. 
She  refpefledhis  underiianding  no  lefs  than  his  wiihes, 
and  was  ever  happy  to  receive  inftru<5tion  from  him. 
As  ihe  was  thus  one  of  the  mod  amiable  of  women,, 
it  fcarce  needs  be  added,  that  he  was  one  of  the  hap- 
pieft  of  men  ;  and  efpecially,  as  he  had  a  foul  capa- 
ble of  valuing  fuch  excellence,  and  made  her  fuch  re- 
turns of  affedion  that  fhe  fometimes  found  herfelf 
impelled  to  caution  him  againlf  excefs  i  '^  for  God,'* 
ilie  would  fay,  '*  will  endure  no  rival." 

Her  deference  to  her  mother  was  not  impaired  by 
her  marriage.  In  her  dutiful  affection,  ripened  into 
friendQiip,  that  excellent  woman  found  a  reward  for 
all  her  cares,  and  a  precious  folace  of  her  declining 
years. 

To  her  father-in-law,  ihe  paid  the  fame  refped  as 
to  her  own  mother  :  conceiving  that  when  perfons 
.are  united  by  fo  tender  a  tic  as  that  of  marriage,  a 
correfpondent  union  is  conlVltuted  to  their  refpedive 
jelations. 

To  the  memory  of  her  predecefTor,  the  former  wife 
of  her  hufband,  ihe  manifelkd  what  is  perhaps  not 
\€ry  ufual,  a  fmgular  veneration  ;  often  fpeaking 
with  refpecl  of  her  virtues,  and  making  them  a  model 
for  her  imitation. 

To  the  children  of  that  lady  (ilie  had  none  of  her 
cwn)  fhe  exhibited  the  care  and  tendernefs  of  the  bell 
of  mothers.  The  cheerfulnefs  and  folicitude  with 
which  Ihe  engaged  in  every  thing  tending  to  render 
ihcm  bulk  amiable  and  happy,  fcemed   calculated   to 

render 


Lady  Elizabeth  Langham.  99 

lender  the  name  of  flep-mother  a  name  of  honor  and 
delight. 

To  the  daughter,  when  about  eleven  years  of  age, 
fhe  afligned  the  repetition  of  the  fermons  which  fhe 
heard  ;  for  which  tafk  her  maternal  in(tru6tions  had 
fo  well  prepared  her,  that  fhe  could  analyze  a  fer- 
mon  of  thirty  or  forty  particulars,  with  fuitable  en- 
largements. 

This  pious  care  of  her  children  ceafed  not  but  with 
life.  On  her  deathi-bed  fhe  tenderly  reminded  her 
hufband  of  the  importance  of  training  them  in  relig- 
ion ;  a  religion  w^hich  would  give  them  fupport  in 
their  laft  hours. 

Her  fervants  (he  cojifidered  as  a  kind  of  inferior 
friends.  Her  treatment  of  them  was  fiich  as  to  excite 
love  mingled  with  veneration,  and  to  produce  the  fer- 
vice  of  the  heart,  not  the  eye.  The  meanefl  of  them 
experienced  her  care,  efpecially  in  the  beft  things. 
Of  her  maids  who  could  write,  flie  required  a  written 
account  of  the  fermons  which  they  heard,  fupplying 
iheir  deficiences  from  her  own  notes.  She  called  them 
up  early  in  the  morning,  that  they  might  pray  :  and  if 
fhe  found  any  of  them  (for  fhe  examined  them  feve- 
rally)  to  have  negleded  fecret  prayer,  flie  immediate- 
ly difmilTed  them  from  their  attendance  on  her,  to 
their  clofets  ;  not  v/ithout  a  reprehenflon,  for  giving 
her  fervice  the  precedency  to  that  of  their  Maker. 
Such  care  Ihe  took,  as  fhe  fom.etimes  faid  to  her  huf- 
band, *  from  a  deep  convidtion  that  governors  of  fami- 
lies are  accountable  to  God  for  the  fouls  of  the  mean- 
eft  under  their  roof.'  Nor  did  fhe  lofe  fight  of  this 
object,  even  in  her  laft  Ikknefs.  If  any  of  them 
were  deprived  of  public  worfhip  on  the  fabbath,  in 
order  to  attend  her,  flte  would  tell  them  that  nothing 
but  abfolute  necelTity  would  have  been  a  reafon  with 
)ier,  for  detaining  them  at  home.  **  But  yet,"  faid 
llie,   <*your  miads  are  at  liberty.     Let  God  have  as 

much 


Tq&  Memoirs  oP 

much  worfhip   as  you  can  give   him.     Lift  up  youi'' 
hearts.     Remember  it  is  the  Lord's  day." 

The  fame  tender  concern  followed  her  fervants 
when  they  left  her  houfe.  One  of  the  loweft  clafs^ 
coming  one  day  to  take  leave  of  her,  (lie  gave  her, 
befide  other  proofs  of  her  kindnefs,  much  ferious 
counfel ;  and  begged  her  hufband  to  make  her  fome 
additional  prtfent  ;  but  efpecially  not  to  let  her  go 
without  a  fecond  donation  of  good  advice. 

Her  charity  to  the  poor  was  eminent.  She  wait-- 
ed  not  till  they  made  known  their  neceflities,  but  by 
particular  inquiries  drew  from  them  thofe  complaints 
which  their  modeliy  might  have  fupprefTed,  that  fo 
Ihe  might  difcover  in  what  way  flie  could  be  moft 
helpful  to  them.  If  fhe  found  any  of  their  wants  fo- 
great  as  to  exceed  an  ordinary  work  of  charity,  fhe 
was  not  eafy  till  fhe  had  procured  a  proportionate- 
fupply.  Her  alms  were  generally  double  ;  confjfting. 
not  only  of  her  bounty,  but  her  counfel.  It  was  her 
cuftom,  when  fhe  went  abroad,  to  furnifli  her  poor 
?nan's  pnrfe  with  fuch  money  as  was  proper  to  be  dif- 
tributed  to  neceflitous  obje<5ls  in  her  way. 

Being  once  informed  of  the  great  liberality  of  fome- 
of  her  anceftors,  efpecially  in  educating  ferious  young, 
men  at  the  Univernties,  fhe  expreffed  a  high  opin-- 
ion  of  their  judgment,  as  w^ell  as  their  generofity. 
**  Indeed,"  faid  (he,  "  it  is  the  heft  charity  to  pro-- 
mote  the  good  of  fouls.'  It  is  a  much  nobler  bounty' 
to  be  the  inftrument  of  thus  confecrating  the  life  of 
of  one,  than  to  relieve  the  age  and  infirmities  of 
twenty." 

Though  her  beneficence  was  fludioufly  conformed 
to  the  fpirit  of  the  Savior's  diredion  (Matthew  6.  3.). 
yet  her  very  numerous  charities,  concealed  till  her 
death,  could  be  concealed  no  longer.  Multitudes 
of  poor,  impelled  by  afrection  and  gratitude,  came 
thronging  to  fee  her  hearfe  ;  ^fid  while  they  poured 
their  tears  over  their  benefad^rcfs,  lamented  her  de- 
ccafe  as  their  irreparable  lofs,  Shs 


LADi' Elizabeth  Langham.  ioi 

She  greatly  detefted  tale-iearing  ;  and  was  ever 
ready  to  fiifpe^l  a  paffionate  acculer,  as  more  faulty 
than  theaccufed.  She  was  very  adive  in  reconciling 
diiferences  which  occurred  within  the  fphere  of  her 
knowledge  and  influence.  Indeed  her  whole  life  was 
a  comment  on  the  Apoftle's  beautiful  defcription  of 
the  greatefi:  of  Chriftian  graces  ;   i    Cor.  13.  4— S. 

With  the  ficknefs  which  proved  her  lait  (he  was 
feized  fuddenly.  It  was  the  fmall-pox,  dilguifed 
under  the  relic's  of  a  fever,  from  which  fhe  was  to 
appearance  almoft  recovered.  The  arreft  of  death 
on  the  borders  of  fuppofed  health,  might  have  been 
€xpecled  to  produce  fome  difcompofure  :  but  Ihe  was 
favored  with  great  peace. 

During  the  twilight  of  hopes  and  fears  which  held 
both  her  friends  and  phyficians  in  fufpenfe  concern- 
ing her,  fhe  feemed  to  have  a  prevailing  defire  to  de- 
part  and  be  with  Chriji.  She  entreated  her  hufband, 
who  was  importunate  for  her  longer  continuance, 
*  not  to  pray  for  her  life,  but  for  her  foul,  that  God 
would  make  her  fit  to  die  :  or,  if  he  pieafed  to  grati- 
fy the  defires  of  thofe  who  fo  afFe<5iionately  wifhcd  her 
recovery,  that  he  would  fo  fan6lify  his  hand  to  her, 
that  fhe  might  have  grace  to. pay  her  vows.*  Indeed 
(li<j  feemed  little  concerned  for  any  thing  butconrorm- 
ity  to  the  divine  will.  The  willi  iho.  exprsifed  in 
the  midd  of  a  feverifli  paroxyfm  was  that  by  the 
burning  heat,  (he  might  be  purified  and  refined. 

At  another  time,  her  hufband  having  wirh  great 
carneftnefs  prayed  for  her  recovery,  fne  gently  blam- 
ed his  vehemence,  defiring  him  to  be  content  with 
the  promife  of  God,  that  all  things  Jhould  work  together 
for  his  good .:  and  to  refign,  as  (he  wiflied  to  do,  to  the 
divine  will  ;  obferving  that  he  would  fureiy  have  no 
leafon  to  give  himfeif  up  to  forrow,  if  he  iliould  fee 
her  die  with  good  evidences  for  heaven.  She  added  : 
**  We  came  not  into  the  world  together  ;  nor  can  v/e 
cxpe6l  to  go  out  of  it  togethei  :  yet  it  is  a  great  fatis- 

fivflion 


102  Memoirs  of 

fa6lioi>  to  me  that  I  am  going  whither  after  a  while 
you  will  follow  me." 

During  her  ficknefs,  fhe  was  very  anxious  left  fhfi 
fhould  diihonor  God  by  impatience  ;  and  frequently 
afked  ihofe  about  her,  whether  fhe  did  not  appear  to 
them  to  be  deficient  in  patience.  She  feemed  humbled 
at  the  recolledion  of  what  Ihe  had  feen  in  fome  Chrif- 
tian  friends  whom  fhe  had  attended  in  their  ficknefs;- 
apprehending  herfelf  to  come  far  fhort  of  them. 

She  had  fome  conflicts  with  temptation,  and  with 
the  tendernefs  of  her  own  confcience,  which  was  apt 
to  reproach  her  for  the  fmalleft  omiilions.  She  com- 
plained of  herfelf  in  many  particulars  in  whicli  ihofe 
who  knew  the  clofenefs  of  her  walk  with  God,  thought 
there  was  little  reafon. 

But  as  it  pleafed  God,  the  light  of  his  countenance 
foon  pierced  and  difpelled  every  cloud,  filling  her 
heart  with  peace  and  comfort.  To  a  friend  who  vifi- 
ted  her,  Hlq  faid,  *  fhe  blelfed  God,  that  inftead  of  a 
longer  ilay  in  a  world  full  of  miferies,  He  had  given 
her  the  fight  of  a  better  country,  and  had  cleared  her 
intereft  in  it — fhe  was  willing  to-  refign  her  foul  into 
the  hands  of  her  heavenly  Father,  knowing  whom  fhe 
had  trufted  ;  and  to  quit  her  earthly  tabernacle  in  ex- 
change for  that  houfe  not  made  with  hands,  eternal  in 
the  heavens.' 

Thus  fell  what  was  mortal  of  this  excellent  woman^ 
to  her  own  infinite  gain,  but  to  the  great  lofs  of  ths 
world,  and  the  inexpreflible  grief  of  her  furviving. 
friends = 


Ths 


The  Countess  of  Warwick.        103 

The  Right  Honorable 
The  countess  of  WARWICK. 


JL  HIS  Lady  was  a  daughter  of  Richard 
Boyle,  the  firft  Earl  of  Cork,  who  was  born  a  pri- 
vate gentleman,  and,  being  the  younger  brother  of  a 
younger  brother,  had  no  other  inheritance  than  is  ex- 
preffed  in  this  77iottGy  whicii  he  infcribed  on  his  prin- 
cipal buildings,  and  ordered  to  be  written  on  his  t(;mb: 
God's  Provuleme  is  my  Inheritance.  By  the  blelling 
of  that  Providence  on  his  unremitting  induftry,  he 
rofe  to  a  date  of  opulence  and  honor  rarely  known. 

One  of  her  numerous  brothers  was  the  celebrated 
Robert  Boyle;  a  man  equally  diiiinguinied  for  ge- 
nius, learning  and  piety  ;  a  bright  ornament  to  religi- 
on, and  to  human  nature. 

She  was  early  intruded  in  the  principles  of  reli- 
gion, yet  confefl'ed  that  (he  know  nothing  of  its  life 
and  power  on  her  heart,  nor  any  relilh  for  divine  things, 
till  fome  years  after  her  marriai:e.  She  declared  that 
fhe  came  into  her  hufbandV  family  with  very  falfe 
conceptions  of  religion,  and  prejudices  againft  it  :  but 
the  devotion  of  that  family,  the  excellent  prer.ching 
{he  heard,  and  the  amiable  tendernefs  of  her  illuflri- 
ous  father-in-law,  were  foon  effeclual  to  the  rerioval 
of  her  dangerous  prepoireihons. 

Two  other  means  were  eminently  bleilec^  ;<)  her 
fpiritual  good  :  afflictions  and  retirement.  Ev  theje. 
Heaven  was  pleafed  in  a  kind  and  gradual  way  10  de- 
tach 


104  Memoirs  of 

tach  her  heart  from  the  follies  and  pleafurcs  of  the 
world,  which  feemed  her  principal  fnares  ;  and  to 
fix  it  on  better  things  :  fo  that  fhe  found  herfelf  able 
to  affiire  her  friends  of  the  defirablenefs  of  the  ex- 
change the  had  made,  of  Ihadowy,  imfiibftantial  grati- 
fications, for  the  folid  joys  which  flie  found  in  reli- 
gion ;  and  from  her  own  happy  experience,  to  recom- 
mend the  fame  choice  to  them. 

Chriftian  exhortation  and  preaching  were  likewife 
g'reatly  inflrumental  in  cherifliing  and  keeping  alive 
thofe  convi6lions  which  terminated  in  her  conver- 
fion.  This  happy  change  took  place  about  thirty- 
years  before  her  death.  From  this  period,  her  conver- 
fation,  which  had  been  externally  inoffenfive,  was  yet 
vifibly  changed.  She  became  eminent,  even  among 
Chriftians,  for  the  gravity,  humility  and  circumfpec- 
tion  of  her  walk,  and  for  her  progrefs  in  the  know- 
ledge and  experience  of  divine  things. 

From  the  commencement  of  her  Chriftian  life,  {he 
feem.ed  much  concerned  to  know  that  fhe  was  on  the 
true  foundation.  She  dreaded  a  deception  in  things  of 
TCverlafting  concernment.  She  ferioufly  examined  the 
grounds  of  her  hope,  and  her  evidences  for  heaven,  by 
the  word  of  God  ;  and  carefully  committed  the  refult 
of  her  examination  to  writing* 

It  feemed  to  be  the  grand  objeft  of  her  life  to  walk 
v/orthy  of  God,  to  adorn  the  gofpel,  and  to  fhev/  forth 
the  pralfes  of  Him  who,  fhe  trufted,  had  called  her* 
from  darknefs  into  his  marvellous  light. 

She  was  careful  and  circiimfpe£l  in  abftaining  from 
all  appearance  of  evil.  In  all  doubtful  cafes,  her 
rule  was  to  take  the  fafe  fide  ;  faying  (he  was  fure  it 
would  do  her  no  harm  to  let  that  alone  whofelawful- 
nefs  was  at  all  difputable.  While  therefore  none 
were  farther  fr'*  n  cenfuring  others,  or  fitting  in  judg- 
ment on  their  liberties,  fhe  confcientioully  abftained 
from  thofe  artificial  methods  of  increafing  beauty, 
which  were  common  among  thofe  of  her  rank  ;  nor 

would 


The  Countess  of  Warwick.         105 

v/eiild  fhe  play  at  any  of  the  fafliionabie  games,  be- 
■caufe,  befide  many  other  inconveniencies  attached  to 
them,  (he  thought  them  great  wafers  of  time,  of 
v/hich  fhe  v/as  nobly  avaricious.  There  were  thresi 
things  fhe  would  fometimes  fay,  which  fhe  confcffed 
T7erc  too  hard  for  her  to  comprehend  :  "How  thofe 
"who  profelfed  to  believe  an  eternal  flate,  and  its  de- 
pendence on  this  inch  of  time,  could  complatn  9f 
time's  lying  as  a  dead  commodity  on  their  hands, 
which  they  were  at  a  difiiculty  to  difpofeof : — Hov/ 
profefling  Chriilians,  who  would  feem  devout  at 
church,  could  laugh  at  others  for  being  feri6us  out  of 
it  : — And  how  intelligent  men  could  take  care  of 
fouls,  and  feldom  come  among  them,  and  never  look 
after  them." 

For  many  years  before  her  death,  (lie  kept  a  diary, 
in  which,  among  other  things,  Ihe  recorded  the  daily- 
frame  of  Iier  heart  toward  God,  his  fignal  providen- 
ces to  herfelf,  and  fometimes  to  others,  his  gracious 
manifefiations  to  her  foul,  anfwers  of  prayer,  temp- 
tations prevailing  or  refifted,  with  whatever  might  be 
ufeful  for  caution  or  enccuras^ement,  or  afi\)rd  matter 
for  thankfulnefs  or  humiliation. 

She  ufed  to  ilyle  prayer  hsarf's  eafe^  as  flie  often 
foimd  it.  In  praying,  fhe  prayed  ;  being  not  only 
conftantand  ab'jndant,  but  mighty -and  fervent  in  this 
duty.  When  fhe  ufed  not  an  audible  voice,  her  fighs 
anfl  groans  were  fometimes  overheard  from  her  clofet. 
Indeed  prayer  was  the  element  in  which  fhe  lived, 
and  a£i:ually  died  :  the  vital  breath  of  her  foul,  that' 
Wafted  it  iinraediately  to  heaver^. 

She  walked  two  hours  every  morning  for  fecret 
meditation  ;  in  which  important  art  fiie  was  a  great 
proficient  ;  fometimes  employing  her  thoughts  on 
particular  fubjecls,  and  at  others,  extiacling  merital 
food  and  improvement  from  obje<5ls  and  occurrences 
as  they  prefented.  Volumes  of  this  kind  flie  left  be« 
hind  her  in  raanufcript. 

K  After 


•£o6  *         Memoirs  o* 

After  confecrating  theday  by  reading  the  fcriptures, 
prayer  and  meditation,  {he  attended  either  to  her  do- 
iiieftic  concerns,  or  the  reading  of  fome  pious  book. 
With  exemplary  ftriflnefs  (he  kept  the  fabbath,  as 
the  beft  inftrumental  prefervative  of  the  life  of  reli- 
gion. She  was  a  devout  communicant  ;  feldom  o- 
mitting  to  prepare  for  renewing  her  covenant  with 
God,  by  fafting,  as  well  as  prayer.  Of  one  of  the 
laft  Sacramentdays  which  flie  enjoyed,  the  following 
account  is  extracled  from  her  diary. 

"  As  foon  as  I  awoke,  I  bleffed  God.  When  I 
had  read  in  the  word,  the  chapters  concerning  the 
fiifferings  of  my  bleOed  Savior,  I  fpent  much  time 
in  meditating  on  his  dying  love  :  by  which  thoughts 
I  found  my  heart  much  drawn  out  to  love  him,  and 
melted  with  his  love.  Next,  with  awful  apprehenfions 
of  God  upon  my  mind,  I  went  to  prayer.  My  heart 
was  lifted  up  in  the  high  praifes  of  God,  for  both 
i'piritual  and  temporal  mercies,  and  my  afFedions  v/ere 
much  drawn  out  in  the  duty.  My  heart  followed  hard 
after  God,  for  a  nearer  communion  with  him  in  the 
facrament,  than  I  had  ever  yet  enjoyed.  I  then  renew- 
ed my  covenant  with  God,  and  made  promiff  s  that 
by  his  grace  enabling  me,  I  would  walk  more  clofely 
with  Him  for  time  to  come.  That  w^hich  in  a  fpecial 
manner  I  begged  of  God,  at  this  Sacrament,  was 
niore  love  to  him,  more  holinefs,  more  contempt  of 
the  world  and  the  glories  of  it,  and  that  I  might  be 
more  ufeful  to  the  fouls  and  bodies  of  my  fellow- 
Chriftians,  than  forjuerly  I  have  been. 

*'  I  was  in  a  fpecial  mianner  grateful  for  the  Crea« 
tion  and  Redemption  of  the  w^orld  ;  for  the  gofpel, 
and  covenant  of  grace  ;  for  converting  grace  ;  for 
luftification  ;  for  fome  m.eafure  of  landification  ;  for 
io  much  patience  exercifed  toward  me  before  my  con- 
verfion,  and,  in  order  to  it,  the  imbittering  of  crea- 
ture comforts,  that  I  might  feek  for  comforts  from 

above  i 


The  Countess  op  Warwjck.        107 

above;  for  ran6tified  affllclion,  for  Tome  degree  of 
patience  to  bear  it,  and  for  fupports  under  it,  by  the 
\varm  and  lively  confolations  of  the  Holy  Ghof!:  ;  for 
returns  of  prayer  ;  for  fo  many  opportunities  to  feek 
to  God  ;  for  the  fweet,  reviving  hours  I  have  enjoyed 
with  God  in  folitudeby  heavenly  meditation  ;  tor  the 
word  and  Sacraments,  and  the  fanaifying  motions  of 
Gods'  Spirit.  I  was  in  a  more  than  ufual  manner 
melted  in  the  duty.  On  coming  from  it,  I  found  a 
longing  defire  to  partake  of  the  Lord's  Supper,  and  a 
great  joy  that  I  v/as  going  to  celebrate  it.  Then  1  went 
to  hear.  The  text  was,  /  am  the  way^  the  truth  and 
the  life  :  no  man  come  to  unts  the  Father  but  by  me, 
John  14.  6. 

<*  I  was  attentive  at  that  good  fermon  ;  and  by 
what  1  heard  of  the  excellence  of  Chriil,  had  my 
heart  much  warmed  with  love  to  him. 

**  Afterwards,  at  the  confefiion  before  the  Sacra- 
ment, I  found  my  heart  in  an  uncommon  nnanner 
broken  for  my  fins,  and  I  judged  and  loathed  myfelf 
fbr  them.  After  I  h^d  received,  I  found  i^iy  heart 
warmed  with  love  to  God,  auv^  my  foul  followed  hard 
after  him,  to  be  made  more  holy,  and  for  grace  to 
ferve  him  better  than  I  had  ever  y^t  done.  I  had 
lively  afFeclions  in  the  ordinance,  and  received  much 
joy,  and  delightful  communion  with  God  in  it. 

**  After  I  had,  at  the  table  of  the  Lord,  given  to 
the  poor,  I  came  awa,y  with  my  heart  in  a  fweet, 
grateful  fram.e,  and  blcfTed  God  in  private  for  that 
bleffed  feaft,  and  begged  (Irength  of  Him  to  keep  the 
promifes  I  had  made  of  new  obedience. 

*'  In  the  afternoon,  I  again  heard  the  fame  minifter, 
on  the  fame  text.  I  was  in  an  attentive,  ferious 
frame  under  that  good  fermon.  The  drift  of  it  was 
to  (liow  that  Chrid  was  the  only  way  for  penitent 
fmners  to  come  to  the  Father. 

**  I    meditated  on  the  fermons,    and  prayed  them 
•ver.  I  had  alfo  contemplations  on  the  joys  of  heav- 
en, 


ic8  Memoirs  of 

eij,  with  the  thoughts  of  being  forever  freed  from  fin,, 
and  of  being  forever  wuh  the  Lord,  where  I  fhouli, 
enjoy  him  in  hisfulieft  love. 

**  I  found  my  heart  much  revived,  and  my  foul- 
made  ftrong  fallies  and  cgre Ties  after  that  bleffed  reft,. 

"  C  Lord,  I  do  from  my  foul  blefs  thee  for  this, 
fweet  day,  in  which  thou  wert  pleafed  to  vouchfafc 
to  me,  thy  moil:  unworthy  fervant,  more  foul-joy  than- 
thou  haft  given  me  for  a  long  time  before." 

She  v/as  fcarcely  lefs  folicltous  to  tnake  others  good,, 
than  to  be  good  herfelf.  She  had  a  kind  of  feraphic. 
leiil  for  the  glory  of  God,  and  an  ardent  love  to  im-. 
mortal  fouls.  It  fecmcd  the  one  great  obje6l  of  her 
life  to  promote  religion.  To  this  end,  fhe  endeavored 
to  exhibit  it  in  its  moft  amiable  and  inviting  form* 
To  a  temper  and  deportment  naturally  fweet  and  en-. 
gaging,  me  fiiperadded  the  lovely  and  attradlive 
charms  of  Chriftian  meekncfs,  benevolence  and 
courtefy.  She  was  likewife  ftudious  to  keep  herfelf; 
^ifeiigaged  from  parties  and  feds,  that  none  might 
iufpect  her  of  a  delign  to  make  profelytes  to  any  but- 
to  God. 

When  in  company,  (he  v/as  careful  to  introduce  dif- 
courfe  at  once  pleafant  and  profitable.  In  this  fhck 
had  great  fldll  and  dexterity,  frequently  giving  the 
converfation  an  infenfible  turn,  by  dropping  Tome 
moral  or  religious  apophthegm,  cither  of  her  owr> 
or  borrowed.  She  had  a  high  value  for  fuch  remarks 
as  contained  much  inflruf^ion  in  little  com.pafs,  and 
]iad  a  large  colle6lion  of  them  ;  of  which  the  follow- 
ing is  a  brief  fpecimen. 

*•  He  loves  God  too  little,  v^ho  lovies  anything  zvifbi 
iiim,  which  he  loves  not  for  him. 

"  By  hov/  miuch  the  more  vile  Chrift  made  himfelf 
for  us,  by  fo  much  the  more  precious  (hould  he  be  to  us* 

*'  He  who  takes  up  Chrift's  crofs  aright,  will  find 
U  fuch  a  burden  as  wings  to  a  bird,  or  fails  to  a  fhip» 

**  O  Lord, 


ITme  Countess  of  Warwick,        109 

^*  O  Lord,  what  I  give  thee,  doth  not  pTeafe  thee, 
unlefs  I  give  thee  myfelf.  So  what  thou  giveft  me, 
fhall  not  fatisfy  me,  unlefs  thou  give  me  thyfelf. 

**  To  be  libelled  for  Chrift,  is  the  bed  panegyric. 

**  Where  affliction  is  heavy,  fin  is  light. 

"  Sin  brought  death  into  the  v/orld,  and  nothing  but 
death  will  carry  fin  out  of  it. 

*•  The  beftfliield  againft  flanderers,  is  to  live  fotliat 
none  may  believe  them. 

**  He  who  revenges  an  injury,  a(f!:s  the  part  of  an 
executioner  :  he  who  pardons  it,  acls  the  part  of  a 
prince. 

**  It  is  a  great  honor  to  be  almoner  to  the  King  of 
heaven.  To  give  is  the  greateft  luxury.  Kovv  in- 
dulgent then  is  God,  to  annex  future  rewards  to  what 
is  fo  much  its  own  recompenfe. 

**  Why  are  we  fo  fond  of  that  life  that  begins  with 
a  cry,  and  ends  with  a  groan  ? 

Where  this  pious  lady  had  particular  intereft  with 
any  whom  flie  apprehended  deftitute  of  religion,  fhe 
would  improve  the  authority  of  friendfliip,  to  plead 
with  them  the  caufe  of  God,  and  their  ov/n  fouls. 
*  Let  me.'  fays  the  minifter  who  writes  her  life,  and 
was  many  years  well  acquainted  with  her,  *  echo  from 
her  lips,  though  alas  !  too  faintly,  the  melting  firains' 
in  which  *  fhe  would  make  her  attempts  upon  the 
friends  whom  file  longed  to  refcue  from  ruin.' 

**  Coirie,  come,  my  friend,  you  muft  be.  good  ;  you 
fhall  be  good.  I  cannot  be  fo  imkind,  nay  fo  unfaith- 
ful to  the  laws  of  friendlhip,  as  to  let  you  perfifi  and 
pcrifii  in  a  way  which  you  know,  as  well  as  I,  leads 
down  to  hell.  It  grieves  my  very  foul  to  have  fijgood 
a  nature  enfnared  againft  the  dictates  of  its  own  light, 
bv  bad  example,  cultom,  or  any  thing  elfe."— If  tliey 
replied  with  excufes,  file  would  (kp  them  thus  : 
**  Pray,  my  triend,  have  patience  ;  hear  me  out.  I 
know,  or  guefs  at  leaft,  what  you  v/ould  fay,  and  I 
K  ^  '  would 


no  Memoirs  o? 

would  not  have  you  fay  it.  It  is  ba<3  to  commit  fin, 
but  it  is  worfe  to  plead  for  it,  and  defend  it.  None  fia 
ibdangeroufly  asthofe  who  fin  with  excufes.  Thede\'il 
plants  a  new  fnare  when  he  gets  into  our  tongues,  to 
fatten  us  to  our  failings,  or  when  he  raifes  an  outwork 
in  our  own  mouths,  to  fecure  the  fort  he  polTefies  iu 
our  hearts,  I  take  it  for  granted  that  all  other  holds 
were  quitted  eafily,  could  you  conquer"  fuch  or  fuch 
u  vice,  **  too  much,  by  cuftom,  prevailing  ever  you^ 
Unhappy  cuftom  !  that  dares  prefcrlbe  againfl  God's 
law — But,  friend,  ufe  no  arguments  now,  that  will 
not  hold  at  the  day  of  judgment.  Though  hand  join 
in  hand — you  know  what  follows.  No  example, 
Jcuftom  or  number  fliould  have  power  over  us,  which 
cannot  excufe  and  fecure  us.  But  this  is  the  mifchief 
i)i  Tin  lived  in:  it  bewitches  the  heart  to  love  it  fo  that 
it  cannot  leave  it.  Cannot  !  So  men  love  to  fpeak. 
But  it  is  becaufe  they  tvill  not  ;  that  is,  will  ufe  no 
endeavors  to  be  rid  of  it.  But,  my  friend,  you  muji 
leave  it — there  is  no  remedy — though  it  coft  you  trou- 
bh,  fmart  and  felf-denial.  There  is  as  much  as  all 
:his  comes  to,  in  cutting  off  a  right  hand,  and  pluck- 
ing out  a  right  eye.  I  fpeak  to  you,  as  to  one  ia 
■^vhom.  1  have  a  party  to  help  mc  plead  ;  I  mean  your 
confciencc,  and  the  belief  ot  the  Scriptures  :  for  if 
you  were  one  of  thofe  on  v/hom  you  know  I  ufe  to  fet 
my  mark,  I  would  not  give  you  this  trouble,  nor  ef- 
teem  myfelf  vuider  more  thaJi  the  laws  of  a  general 
charity  to  wifh  you  better,  and  Oiould  hardly  venture 
2Tiy  little  il<ili  to  make  you  fo.  But  as  for  you,  who 
iiili  o\vn  God's  authority,  and  believe  his  word,  and 
tTittend  his  worfnip,  why  fnould  I  defpair  of  making 
one  part  of  yourfelf  agree  with  the  other  ;  your  prac- 
tice with  your  convidions,  your  converfation  with 
your  confcience  r — Not  to  terrify  you  with  the  thun- 
der-claps of  wrath  and  vengeance,  liften  to  the  ftill 
voice.  It  is  your  peculiar  eminence  to  be  kind  and 
grateful  j  and  becaufe  there  is  a  kind  of  magnetic  vir- 

the 


The  CoiJNTSss  OF  "Warwick.  jsrx' 

fue  in  thefe  arguments,  which  touches  our  tennper,  I 
iliall  attack  you  on  that  fide  ;  hoping  the  ftrongeil  ex- 
cellence of  your  nature  will  prove  the  weakelt  defenf- 
ative  for  f  n,  and  to  keep  out  God.  You,  therefore, 
v/ ho  are  fo  good-natured,  fo  kind,  fo  grateful,  that 
you  never  think  you  have  acquitted  yourfelt  fui"hcient- 
ly  to  thofe  who  have  been  civil,  or  as  you  pleafe  to 
call  it,  obliging,  oh  !  how  can  you  be  fo  unkind  and 
ungrateful  to  God  Almighty,  the  kindeft  friend,  who 
is  fo  much  before-hand  with  you,  who  lias  given  you 
fo  much  good,  and  is  fo  ready  to  forgive  you  all  your 
fins.  Othat  you,  who  I  dare  fay,  w^ould  take  my 
word  for  any  thing  elfe,  would  do  me  the  honor  to  take 
my  word  for  Him,  who,  I  aiTure  you,  upon  your  fin- 
cere  repentance,  will  be  fully  reconciled  to  you  in 
Chrilt, and  never  fo  much  as  upbraid  your  pad  negleds^ 
but  heal  your  back-flidings,-and  love  you  freely.  And 
do  not  fear  you  lliall  have  caufe  to  repent  of"  your  re* 
pentance.  No  man  was  ever  yet  a  lofer  by  God,  and 
you  fhall  not  be  the  firft.  You  (hall  not  lofe  your 
pleafures,  but  exchange  them— defiling  ones  for  tho^e 
which  are  pure  and  ravifhing.  And  let  it  not  feem 
flrange  or  incredible  to  you,  that  there  (liould  be  fuch 
things  as  the  pleafures  of  religion,  becaufe  perhaps 
you  never  felt  them.  Alas!  )ou  have  deprived  your- 
felf  unhappily,  by  being  incapable  of  them.  New 
•wine  mull  be  put  into  new  bottles.  To  fay  nothing 
of  what  the  fcriptures  fpeak,  of  a  day  in  God's  courts 
being  better  than  a  thoufand,  of  joys  unfpeakable  and 
full  of  glory,  of  the  great  peace  they  have  who  keep 
God's  law,  and  that  nothing  (hall  offend  them,  and 
that  wifdom's  ways  are  pleafantnefs ;  let  my  weaknefs 
reafon  out  the  cafe  with  you.  Do  you  think  that  God's 
angels,  who  excel  in  all  perfection,  have  no-delight, 
becaufe  they  have  no  fleni,no  fenfe,  no  bodies,  as  men 
and  beafls  r  Or  have  our  fouls,  the  angels  in  thefe 
houfes  of  clay,  which  are  God's  images,  and  the  price 
of  his  blood,  no  objeds,  no  employments,  which  may 

yield 


112  Memoirs  ot 

yield  them  delight  and  fatisfa6lion  ?  Think'  not  fo  un- 
worthily of  God,  or  fo  meanly  of  yourfelf  f  Have  not 
the  ftrokes  of  your  ov/n  fancy,  or  the  intelledlual  pleaf- 
ures  of  your  mind,  fometimes  tranfported  you  beyond  ■ 
all  the  charms  of  your  fenfes,  when  they  have  chimed 
all  in  tune  together  ?  And  cannot  God,  think  you, 
who  is  a  Spirit,  and  fo  fit  an  objed  for  our  fouls,  give 
them  as  great  pleafures,  as  any  objed  of  our  tafte  and 
light  ?  Come,  come,  my  friend,  take  my  word  for  it, 
there  is  more  pleafure  iiii  the  peace  of  a  good  con- 
fcience,  in  the  well-grounded  hopes  that  our  fins  are 
pardoned,  in  fervingGod,  and  in  the  expeclation  of 
eternal  life,  than  in  all  the  pleafures  of  the  world. 
Alas  !  I  was  once  of  your  mind  j  but  I  afliire  you, 
upon  my  word,  I  have  really  found  m.ore  fatisfadion 
in  ferving  God,  than  I  ever  found  in  all  the  good 
things  of  this  life,  of  which  you  know  I  have  had  my 
fhare.  Try  therefore  ;  dare  to  be  good,  refolve  to  be 
fo  thoroughly.  If  you  do  not  find  it  much  better  than 
I  have  told  you,  never  take  my  word,  nor  trull  me 
more." 

She  took  great  care  of  the  fouls  of  her  fervants  ;  and 
if  file  had  any  ambition,  it  was  to  be  the  mirtrcfs  of  a' 
religious  family.  This  appeared  in  exacting  their  at- 
tendance and  reverent  behavior  at  the  public  worllii|> 
of  God— in  perfonal  inftrudion  of  them,  and  familiar 
perfuafian— in  ferioufly  endeavoring  to  prepare  thera 
for  the  Lord's  fupper,  and  exhorting  them  to  partake 
it  frequently— in  difperfinggood  books  in  all  common 
rooms  and  places  of 'attendance,  that  thofe  in  waiting 
might  have  profitable  employment— and  in  making 
reltgion  in  her  fervants  a  itep  to  her  favor.  She  treat- 
ed them  all  as  friends,  but  they  who  moft  remarkably 
§eatGd  the  Lovdj  were  favorites. 

She  was  exemplary  in  her  difcharge  of  the  duties  of 
the  fecond  table.  No  inconvenience  could  ever  make 
her  recoil  from  obligations  under  which  Ihe  had  once 

laid 


The  Countess  OF  Warwick.  113 

laid  herfelf.  She  thought  it  not  only  wrong,  but  con- 
temptible, to  recede  from  explicit,  or  even  intimated 
promifes,  and  difappoint  expectations  (lie  had  raifed. 
it  an  attempt  was  made  to  induce  her  to  any  thing 
of  this  kind,  her  reply  would  be,  **  You  know  I  dare 
not,  I,  will  not  lie."  What  with  fuch  abhorrence  fha 
avoided  herfelf,  file  likewife  endeavored  to  prevent  in 
her  fervants,  to  whom  fhe  would  frequently  fay,  **Tell 
me  the  truth,  and  Lean  forgive  you  any  thing.'* 

With  the  divine  injunction  to  **  fpeak  evil  of  no 
man,"  her  practice  exemplarilycorrefponded.  Where 
fne  could  not  commend,, Ihe  was  filent,unlefs  to  fome 
fmgle  friend  of  whofe  taciturnity  fhe  was  fecure. 
Nor  did  (he  invidiouily  detract  from  the  juft  praife  of 
any;  but  frequently  extenuated  their  failings,  by  pre- 
fenting  the  bright  lides  of  their  character. 

As  a  wife.,  it  may  be  truly  faid,  that  the  heart  of  her 
hufoandjafely  trujled  in  her,  andflje  did  him  goody  and 
net  evily  all  the  days  of  her  life.  She  lived  under  a  con- 
itant  and  imprellive  fenfe  of  the  covenant  of  God 
which  was  between  them  ;  mingling  uncommon  ten- 
dernefs  and  afFedion  with  a.  condu'S  uniformly  com- 
plying. She  concealed  his  infirmities,  fympathized 
in  his  indifpofitions,  and  attended  him  with  the  great- 
eft  kindnefs.  Above  all,  fhe  loved  his  foul ;  fervently- 
praying  for  him,  and  counfelling  him  with  mingled, 
zeal  and  prudence.  Amoiig  other  tellimonials  of  ef- 
teem  and  gratitude,  he  gave  her,  by  will,  his  whole.' 
eftate,  and  left  her  fole  executrix.  This  truff,  great 
and  arduous  as  it  was,  fhe  difcharged  with  fuch  atten- 
tion, prudence  and  accuracy,  as  even  more  than  fatis- 
fied  all  concerned  :  an  event  which  (be  gratefully  ac- 
knowledged as  a  fignal  mercy. 

Her  excellence  as  a  mother  amply  appeared  in-  the 
education  of  her  fon,  a  promifmg  youth,  who  died  be- 
f!ore  her  ;  and  afterward,  of  three  young  ladies,  he'C 
nicQes,  to  whom  fhe  v^-as  a  mother  in  the  belt  fenfe. 

She 


iijf.  ■         Memoirs  o? 

She  was  a  pattern  of  rerpc6l  and  duty  .to  her  parents. 
Of  her  Father's  worth,  fhe  had  fach  an  affectionate 
Jenfe,  that  {he  once  had  it  in  contemplation  to  write 
his  life,  and  coUeded  coniiderable  materials  for  the 
purpofe. 

As  a  fifter,  (he  was  inexprefTibly  tender  and  endear^ 
ing  :   as  a  friend,  open,  unfufpicious  and  faithful. 

The  temporal,  as  well  as  fplritual  intereft  of  her 
fervants,  was  near  her  heart.  She  feemed  to  have  as 
much  fatisfaclion  in  pleating  them,  as  fome  of  the  bell: 
of  fervants,  in  pteafing  their  hiperiors.  She  delighted 
to  render  their  lives  eafy,  and  free  from  difcontent, 
that  fo  they  might  ferve  God  with  cheerfulnefs.  Sh« 
extended  her  generous  careof  them  to  the  period  when 
her  relation  to  them  would  be  diiTolved  ;  giving  to  ma- 
ny of  them  the  noble  legacies  of  four,  three,  two  and 
cne  hundred  pounds  (and  fmaller  fums  to  others,  ac- 
cording to  their  terms  of  fervice)  to  purchafe  annuities 
for  their  lives.  In  addition  (he  gave  a  full  year's 
vvage:  to  every  one  not  fpecified  by  name,  and  three 
months'  entertainment  at  herhoufe,as  in  her  life,  that 
they  might  have  ample  time  to  feek.  other  convenient 
places. 

She  was  a  mofi:  tender  and  ii^dulgent  land-lady  ;  and 
was  accuftomed  to  fay  of  her  tenants  :  "  Alas  I  poor 
creatures  ;  they  take  a  great  deal  of  pains,  and  I  love 
to  fee  them  thrive,  and  liv«  comfortably  ;  I  cannot 
bear  to  fee  them  brought  into  ftraits.and  would  there- 
fbre  without  grudging^have  all  things  made  convenient 
for  them."  If  any  "of  them  had  fuftained  material 
lolFes,  fhe  did  not  fail  to  confider  them. 

In  her  charity,  (he  was  forward  to  her  power,  and 
beyond  it,  though  it  was  large.  She  would  anticipate 
her  incomes,  rather  than  reftrain  or  fufpend  her  libe- 
rality. She  would  not  live  poor  in  good  works,  to 
die  polTefled  of  a  great  eflate.  Her  own  liberal  hands 
were  the  executors  to  her  enlarged  heart. 

Havings- 


The  Countess  €F  Warwick.  115 

Having,  in  her  Lord's  life,  a  feparate  allowance,  fhe 
inquired  of  a  Hiinifter  of  her  acquaintance,  what  pro- 
portion of  their  fubftance  perfons  were  bound  to  con- 
jccrate  immediately  to  God,  and  to  the  poor.  The 
niinifter  replying  that  it  Vv'as  impoilible  to  eftablifha 
univerfal  r'.de,  and  that  particular  circumftances  muft 
often  dired,  fhe  iniifted  on  an  anfwer  more  explicit 
and  precife.  On  his  fuggefting  that  a  feventh  part, 
as  he  fuppofed,  would  be  a  fuitable  proportion  of  her 
fubftance,  fhe  immediately  rejoined,  without  giving 
him  time  to  aflign  his  reafons,  that  fhe  could  not  think 
of  iefs  than  a  third.  This  proportion  Ihe  accordingly 
fet  afide  for  charitable  w^f^  \  nor  did  the  mod  prefling 
occafions  of  a  different  kindever  prevail  on  her  to  in- 
fringe on  it,  though  file  often  borrowed  from  the  re- 
mainder of  her  property,  to  increafe  it. 

When  file  cam.e  into  polTeflion  of  the  large  eftate 
bequeathed  her  by  her  hufband,  her  difpofjtion  of  it 
realized,  in  great  meafure,  the  remark  faid  to  have 
been  uttered  by  a  perfon  of  eminence,  that  the  Earl 
cf  IVartvick  had  given  all  his  ejiate  to  pious  ufes.  She 
feemed  to  have  no  fatisfadfion  in  fo  great  pofleffions 
on  any  other  account  than  that  of  doing  more  exten- 
five  good  ;  and  has  been  heard  to  declare  that  flie  would 
not  be  incumbered  with  the  largeft  eftate  in  England 
on  any  other  conditions. 

That  her  charity  W2iS  judicious  vls  well  as  generous, 
appears  from  its  being  bellowed  on  objefls  of  thefol- 
iowine  defcriptions  : 

1.  Perfons  really  in  want,  whofe  necefllties  were 
yet  through  their  modefty  and  delicacy,  Iefs  obvious 
and  known.  Such  flie  liberally  relieved,  though  un- 
afned  ;  while  at  the  fame  time,  fnc  feemed  more  fo- 
licitous  for  xht'ix  pardon y  than  their  thanks. 

2.  Foreigners  who  fled  to  England  to  preferve  their 
religion,  or  to  embrace  what  they  believed  to  be  the 
truth. 

3.  Scholars^ 


ii6  Memoirs  of 

3.  Scholars,  of  promifing  difpofnions  and  capacU 
ties,  whom  in  gx-eat  numbers  Ihe  educateda  tthe  Uni- 
verfity,  either  entirely,  or  in  part  ;  allowing  them, 
according  to  their  exigencies,  an  annual  Tumot  thirty, 
twenty,  ten  pounds,  &c. 

4.  Multitudes  of  poor  children.  As  many  of  them 
as  were  willing  to  learn,  or  could  be  perfuaded  to  it, 
fhe  put  to  fchool  in  neighboring  towns;  not  only  pay- 
ing tor  their  inftrudion,  but  giving  them  books,  and 
often,  clothing.  This  noble" kind  of  charity  flie  ex- 
ercifed  not  only  near  home,  but  as  far  diftant  as  Wales, 
contributing  largely  to  the  pious  defign  of  the  excel- 
lent and  truly  apoilolic  Mr.  Gouge,  to  refcue  that 
country  from  its  grofs  ignorance. 

5.  Many  minifters  of  other  denominations,  as  well 
as  conformifts,  who  had  either  no  livings  at  all,  ar 
fuch  as  were  very  incompetent. 

6.  Many  occafional  applicants.  Though  fometimes 
deceived  and  abufed  in  thefe  cafes,  (he  was  not  difcour- 
aged  from  continuing  to  give  ;  faying  *  fhe  would  ra- 
ther relieve  ten  who  appeared  proper  objeds,  and 
were  not,  than  let  one  go  unrelieved,  who  was  in  dif- 
irefs;  for  though  they  deceived  her  in  her  giving, 
God  would  not  deceive  her  in  accepting  what  wa^ 
jjncerely  done  for  his  name's  fake. 

7.  The  poor  around  her  whom  fhe  knew.  Thefa 
fhe  1'ed,  in  great  numbers,  not  only  with  fragments, 
but  with  generous  fupplies  purpofely  provided.  And 
if  any  of  them  were  fick,  or  in  diftrefs  of  mind,  to 
whom  (hould  they  apply,  but  to  her  f  She  fuppiied 
them  v.'ith  medicines,  and  perfonally  vifited  even  the 
meaneft  of  them,  to  converfe  with,  to  inftrud  and  to 
ccmfort  them.  Her  love  and  compaffion  for  them 
were  wonderful.  Twice  a  week,  bread  and  beef  were 
provided  for  the  poor  of  four  adjacent  pariihes  ;  and 
ilie  ordered,  in  her  will,  that  the  fame  bounty  fliould 
be  continued  after  her  death,  and  a  hundred  pounds 
diftributed  to  the  poor  of  four  parifhcs  befide. 

Such 


The  Couts^rEss  of  Warwick.  •      117 

Such  was  the^  amiable  and  exemplary  life  of  the 
Coiintefs  of  Warwick.  It  remains  that  foipe  account 
be  given  of  her  death. 

This  great  evenit  was  habitually  the  fubjecl  of  ^^er 
thoughts  ;  and  fhc  nfcd  to  call  her  walking  to  ineditate 
upon  ir,  hei'  goiuo-  to  take  a  turn  with  death. 

From  a  palfage  in  her  diary,  written  tlie  laft  Lord's 
day  of  her  health,  it  appears  that  fhe  had  then  fome 
remarkable  imorefilons  of  her  diiTolution  as  near.  On 
the  Tiiefday  t^ollowing,  fhe  was  feized  with  a  fevere 
Indifpofition,  from  which  however  Ihe  foon  appeared 
partly  to  recover.  But  in  aboitt  afor:niglu,hcr  licknefs 
jctnrncd,  with  increafed  i*everity,  and  mcft  alarming 
iVmntoms.  She  difcourfed  with  great  cheerfulnefs, 
till  near  the  clofe  of  life.  To  fome  friends  who  were 
near  her  llie  faid,  as  fhe  turned  hack  the  curtains  of  her 
bed  (and  it  was  one  of  the  laft  fentences  (he  was  licard 
to  utter,)  **  Well,  Ladies,  if  I  v/ere  one  hour  in  heav- 
en, J  would  not  be  again  with  you,  as  much  as  ]  love 
3'ou."  Having  foon  after  propofed  prayer,  fhe,  almolt 
as  foon  as  it  was  begun,  fetched  a  figh  as  ilie  fat  in  her 
chair,  turned  fuddenly  pale,  and  expired,  agreeably  to 
}icr  own  vvqili  :  for  Ihe  had  often  been  heard  to  fav 
that  *  if  (he  might  choofe  the  manner  and  circumRan- 
ces  of  her  death,  (he  would  die  praying.' 

It  has  been  feen  how  this  excclle'nt  woman  fervod 
and  glorified  God.  It  may  not  be  an  improper  addi- 
tion to  our  accoimt  of  her,  to  notice  brietly  fome  prin- 
cipal in'lances  in  which  He  was  pieafcd  to  put  iignal 
honor  on  her  :  according  to  liis  own  declaration, 
**  Thofe  who  honor  me,  I  will  honor." 

God  gave  her  riches,  as  well  as  honor^  in  abun- 
dance, as  it  is  faid  of  Jehofhapliat  :  yet  her  heart  was 
not  lifted  up  with  th.^m  ;  bur,  as  is  declared  of  tliat 
good  king,  it  was  lifted  up  in  ihe  ivays  of  the  Lord. 

God  gave  her  a  heaven  upon  earth  ;  for  after  fome 
painful  fcruples  and  trembling  fears,  fne  enjoyed  the 
bleffcd  calm  of  a  purified,  ferine  and  wcll-afiu red  con- 
science. L  God 


vi  v;  pvt  ci^r  :  ,1  ^.x\i  name,  v  *  '  ' 

wherever  i:  wa^  cd  u$   rrc\:iou^  v 

vtou  ^a\^    her  Kiany  «wrvlu\,  er^katcO    f 

l^t  '^'ul  .i!i  her  *>*vn  foul:*  to  ctmntd  and  cv>p- "^ 
n.1  i  :u'p,  her  thrwu^  her  gTs^atcil  dhKciiUk^ 

Ciod  i::;4Vc  her  miny  inercitul  ticUvcrAucc^  ,    otu^  . 
>»hkh  lulv  :i^.  iDOi  J    was  extmardinarv.      Whc 

the'-     ^  ^    •■      ..■■•••. 


\;er, 
G.  d  p\^  her  the  attc^tiorute  elkem   of  aU  hv 
neighbors*     She  was  the  delight  et  the  coimtry  rour 
hir.     And  fuch  was  her  reputation  for  pn-dencc,  tfi 
cn^tion  and  imrirtial  reduuJc,  that  the  b. 
tr.c  urbttrtifs   ot   all   oantroverties  among  , 

ma-  ■       ■    ■  

'v  n  of  all  wjv 

.     Tiu  :  iiivi  lucau*   the    rich    ar- 

lions  ot  /-       „  - cs,  ind  what  is  more,  of  .i 
as,  p;iid  her  tlK^  kiadetl  and  molt  heart>fc' 

It  aiav  be  faid  of  hwr,  ^t  *•  God  prevented  he 

■     '  '-  '"      ;  of  his  gix>dners,  and  crowned  !k  . 
:'s  and  tender  mercy  ^  that  he  ma 
.  •:  ot'his  countenance  ;  and 
.^iv  and  tatnels  ;  that  he  g. 
':^.c  r^|uc\t<  or  her  Irps,  and  imit  not  out  her  prayer :" 
And  at  the  lait,  he  gave  her  abiUty  and  time  to  teltle 
Ker  a^ain>%rith  fattstadiv^n,  to  recoUeci  herfelf,  and 
-vfnew  her  evidences  tor  heaven* 

*  Ftnallv*  God  took  out  the  tUn«^  of  death  :  nor  did 

•  '   ■•     •  •    ■         •    .  •     ^  •  icndditi;- 

;  tVom  t 
J  io  ihv  eurnal 
I  at.     \Vemaya[\ 

her 


'I' IS  :i  C'j  'J  I'  I  i'.  .:■.  ^         .  '  ; 

!.  :r  furlJen  and  peaceful  exit,  ihc  i^ixi  ot  l:*c  cxcciicr.'. 
[)r.  Wafts,  on  a  fimilar  occafion. 

J  foul  prepard  needs  no  delnji  ; 
The  Jummom  come,  the  faint  oheys  : 
Swift  i^LS  her  flighty  and  fhort  the  road  : 
She  cl^m  her  eyes,  and faiv  her  God, 
She  left  behind  her  a  great  number  of  pious  obfcr- 
vations  on  particular  paffages  of  fcripture,  ^nd  occur- 
rences of  life,  a  few  fpccimeus  of  which  arc  here  ad- 
ded. 

RlfLECTIONSOS  PASSACfS  OP,SCRII 

Pralm    1/9.  136. 

Riven  y   j^uiiri  ruH  d'.vjn  mj  ^^^j,  Icavfe  menhec".' 
not  thy  law. 

Lord,  when  I  read  in  thy  v/ord,  of  the  man  aft^.r 
thy  own  heart  thus  fpcaklng,  and  confider  that  I  ari 
frj  far  from  imitating  him,  that  1  can  many  times  fuf- 
fer  (in  to  be  upon  my  brother,  with  ut  fo  much  j- 
giving  hini  a  reproof  for  it, or  advifing  him  to  conrider 
v/!iom  he  offends  by  it ;  nay,  that  I  am  ready  to  fmil. 
at  that  which  is  a  grief  to  thy  Holy  Spirit ;  I  befeec'- 
thee,  O  Lord,  to  humble  me  under  this  confideration  ; 
and  make  me  for  time  to  come  to  imitate  holy  Davi  i 
in  my  charity  towards  my  offending  brother  ;  and  wi: 
thy  fervant  Lot,  let  my  foui  be  lexed  in  hearing  an"' 
feeing  the  converfation  of  the  wicked.  O  let  mc  b^  fo 
charitable  as  to  weep  over  the  foul  of  my  offendin;; 
brother  ;  and  let  me,  as  much  as  in  roe  lies,  deliver 
him  out  of  the  fnare  of  fin,  and  by  my  prayers  and 
holy  example  help  him  towards  heaven  ! 

Mark  9.  5. 
And  Peter  anfwered  and f aid  to  JcfuSy  Mofier,  it  /r 
good  for  us  to  he  here. 

Lord  when  I  pcrufe  thefe  xvords  of  Peter,  //  isgo,  ' 

for  us  to  be  here^    it  makes  mr;  reflect  n';ori  in-,fi;j  \v. 


120  Memoirs  Oc? 

relation  to  the  prefent  world," who  am  often,  when  de- 
]iH,hted  with  any  thing  here  below,  which  pleafes  my 
i'tnfual  appetite,  ready  to  fay,  /'/  is  good  to  be  here.  But 
O  Lord,  I  befeech  thee  do  thou  then  fay  to  me,  **  Up, 
and  be  going  \  for  here  is  not  your  rdjL:  look  beyond 
things  temporal,  to  thofe  which  arc  ctSnal."  Thefc 
v/orldly  pleafures,  I  know,  die  in  the  birth,  and  are 
not  worthy  to  come  into  the  bill  of  mortality.  Make 
ir.e,  O  Lord,  to  confider  that  thefe  things  cannot  fat- 
isty  me  for  a  moment,  miich  lefs  for  eternity  ;  and 
that  though  the  world  feems  to  kifs  me,  it  is  but  to 
itab  me  ;  that  though  it  makes  mefport,.  it  is  but  to 
put  out  my  eyes  ;  that  it  promifesmuch,  but  performs 
nothing.  Therefore  let  m^e  not  i^zwy  It  is  gocd  to  be 
here  ;  but  let  me  feek  after  that  city  which  hath  foun- 
da t ions i  zvhofe  builder  and  ?naker  is  God  .-after  that  het*^ 
ier  ccv.nirjy  that  isj  a  hcavcnlj,^ 

Luke   i6.   25. 

Bui  Abraham /aid y  Son,  rejnember  that  thou  in  thy. 
life- time  received jl  thy  good  things^  and  likeivife  Laza^. 
rus  evil  things  :  but  noWf  he  is  comforted,  and  thou  art 
tormented. 

Lord,  when  I  remember  this  fad  anfwer  of  Abra- 
ham to  the  rich  man's  requeii,  how  fad  a  remem- 
brance nwSl  it  have  been  to  him,  to  confider  his  for- 
mer profperity  ;  that  he  was  clothed  in  parple  and  fins 
linen,  and  fared  fumptuoufly  every  day,  and  yet  that 
now  he  wanted  a  drop  ofV/ater  to  cool  his  tongue  ! 
The  memory  of  his  paft  pvofperhy  was  only  an  ag- 
gravation of  his  prefent  mifery  ;  for  what  good  did  it 
do  him  to  confider  that  in  his  lite-time  he  had,  it  ma}« 
be,  a  great  retinue,  and  m.any  to  wait'cn  him,  where- 
as in  hell,  his  attendants  were  only  devils  and  damned 
ipirits. 

O  Lord,  I  befeech  thee,  may  it  nev^r  be  faid  to  me^ 
as  it  was  to  this  miferable  great  one.  Thou  haft  had, 
iii  thy  life-time,  thy  good. things  1  thou  haft  received, 

thy 


The  Countess  of  Warwick.         121 

thy  confolation  !  O  Lord,  I  befeech  thee,  give  me  not 
my  portion  in  this  life  !  O  let  me  not  have  a  fhort 
heaven  here,  and  an  eternal  hell  hereafter  !  Let  me  not 
be  fatisfied  with  the  bleflings  of  thy  footdool,  without 
thofe  of  thy  throne  ;  nor  Vv'ith  the  fatnefs  of  the  earth, 
\vitho\it  the  dew  of  heaven  !  Let  me  not  fay  to  gold, 
thou  art  my  hope  ;  nor  to  the  fine  gold,  thoji  art  mv 
confidence  !  Let  me  not  count  thefe  lower  things  my 
good  things,  becaufe  they  may  confid  with  reproba- 
tion, and  a  Dives  may  have  them,  and  go  to  hell  ;  but 
let  me  account  thofe  good  things  which  cannot  confiiL 
with  reprobation  !  O  vifit  fne.  Lord,  vv^ith  the  favor 
of  thy  chofen  !  O  Jet  me  not  fo  much  covet  to  be 
clothed  with  purple  and  fine  linen,  as  to  be  like  the 
King's  daughter,  all  glorious  wiihin,  and  be  clothed 
with  the  righteoufnefs  of  Chrid:  1  O  help  me  to  put 
on  the  Lord  Jefus  Chrift,  and  to  make  no  proviiiou' 
for  the  flefli,  to  fulfil  the  luff  thereof  ! 

Genefis  aa.  9,  12. 

Abraham  bound  Ijaac  his  Jon  y  and  laid  h:?n  on  the  a.- 

tar,  upvi  the  wood. Lay   not  thine  hand  on  the  lad^ 

neither  do  thou  any  thing  unto  him. 

Lord,  when  1  read  with  what  obsdience  faithful 
Abraham  complied  with  that  command  to  flay  liisfon 
in  facrifice— a  command  which  not  only  rati  crofs  to 
his  natural  aifedion,  but  feemingly  would  difappoint 
the  promife  which  he  fo  long  waited  for,  and  at  leiu^th. 
received  with  fo  much  deliglit  and  fatisfaaion,that  l)e 
named  his  fon  Ifaac,  laughter,  as  a  witnefs  and  me- 
morial of  his  joys — and  v/hen  I  read  how,  v»/hen  he 
had  flretched  out  his  hand,  and  taken  his  knife  to  flav 
his  '^OAj  thou  calledH:  from  heaven  to  him,  Lay  not 
thine  hand  upon  the  lad  ;  the  confideration  of  ^L'^''^ 
m.akes  me  a(hamed,-to  think  how  How  a;)d  backw^l 
I  was  to  yield  to  thy  gracious  commands  and  calls  to 
devote  m.yfelf  entirely  to  thee,  in  a  courfe  of  ftridf  re> 
Hgion,  and  to  prefent  my   body   as  a  living   facrifcc,. 


122  MeMOIJIS    Gi- 


holy  and  acceptable  to  thee — for   fear  of  flaying  my 
Ifaac,  and  lofing  all  my  joy  and  delight. 

But  C  Lord,  I  muft  acknowledge  I  was  afraid 
•where  no  fear  was  •,  for  I  find  by  blelTed  experience 
that  religion,  that  being  laid  upon  thine  altar,  neither 
Itabs,  nor  burns  up  our  delights, but  only  confines  and 
regulates  them  :  as  I  find  in  the  hifiory  of  the  prodi- 
gal fon,  that  though  he  had  much  mad  jollity  before, 
yet  he  never  knew  what  true  joy  was,  till  he  came  to 
lumfelf,  and  returned  to  his  father  ;  for  it  was  then^ 
and  not  till  then,  that  he  and  his  began  to  be  truly 
merry. 

Matthew  7.   21. 

Not  every  one  that  Jaiik  unto  me.  Lord,  L:rd,  fnall 
enter  into  the  kingdom  of  heaven  ;  hut  he  that  does  the 
■wiil  of  my  Father  which  is  in  heaven. 

O  Lord,  when  I  read  that  it  is  not  a  calling  upon 
thee,  Lord,  Lord  ;  but  obeying  thee  as  fuch,  by  doing 
thy  will,  that  will  give  entrance  into  thy  kingdom, 
how  denrous  am  I  to  live  npto  my  prayers !  And  as  I 
every  day  pray,  as  thou  haft  taught  me,  that  thy  will 
may  be'done',  fo,  Lord,  enable  me  to  do  thy  will;, 
even  when  it  is  molf  contrary  to  my  own  ! 

Let  thy  will  commanding  be  my  will  obeying  ! 
Kelp  m.e  to  refign  mjy  will  wholly  to  thine  !  Make  me 
cheerfully  to  do,  and  patiently  to  fufFer  thy  will  1 
Lijrd,  let  thy  will  be  done  by  me,  ?nd  npon  me  t 


Occasional  PvIeditation?. 

On  the  different  manner  cf  working  of  a  Bee  cjid  Spider, 

While  I  am  attending  10  this  defpicable  Spider, 
which,  defpicable  at  it  is,  has  yet  fomeof  its  kind  that 
have  the  honor  to  inhabit  the  courts  of  potentates, 
(for  tiie  infplred  volumes  tell  us,  they  are  in  kings 
palaces)  I  am  kd  to  cor.fider  ;hat  the  work  he  is  fo 
^  ^  bufijy 


Ihe  Couktess  of  Warwick.         1^7 

bufily  employed  in,  while  he  fpins  his  webs  enlirely 
out  of  his  own  bowels,  -without  ha\ing  help  from 
any  thing  without  him,  is,  when  finifncd,  good  for 
rioihing,  but  is  foon  brufhed  down,  and  flung  away. 
While  the  indniirious  Bee,  who  is  bufjly  employed  in 
making  his  ufeful  combs,  daily  flies  abroad  to  enable 
him.  to  do  fo,  and  flying  from  one  flower  to  another, 
gathers  from  each  that  which  both  renews  his  own 
ftrength,  and  yields  fweetnefs  to  others. 

By  the  Spider's  work,  I  am  reminded  of  a  forma!- 
ill,  or  proud  profeflbr,  who  works  all  from  himifelf, 
and  his  own  llrength,  and  never  goes  out  of  himfelf 
to  get  ftrength  for  his  performances  ;  and  therefore 
his  tl\in-fp«n  righteoufnefs  is  good  for  nothing,  ana 
■will  be  thro^^Ti  away. 

Tfie  Bee's  going  abroad  is  an  emblem  of  the  real 
Chriifian,  who  is  renewed  in  the  fpirit  of  his  mdnd, 
and,  that  he  may  be  enabled  to  work  the  great  work 
for  I  which  he  came  into  the  world,  gvoes  out  to  an 
ordinance,  and  lo  Chrift  in  a  promife,  for  llrengthby 
which  to  work,  and  thus  obtains  it  ;  and  this  makes 
his  work  vield  honey,  and  turn  to  advantage. 

O  Lord,  I  molt  humbly  befeech  thee,  let  me  not 
rare  work  from  myfeif,  but  go  out  daily  to  thee  for 
ability  with  which  to  work  my  great  and  indifpenH- 
bie  work,  tl\at  I  may  deny  my  own  righteoufnef?,  and 
make  niention  oi  thine  only  ;  and  may  find  fuch 
fweetnefs  from  every  ordinance  and  promife,  that  mv. 
foul  mav  belike  a  garden  which  the  Lord  hath  bleiTec, 
and  may  exceedingly  thrive  and  profper. 

On  feeding  the  pcBr  at  the  gate  with  Jame  broken  meat 
left  at  a  feaji. 
How  thankful  are  ihefe  neceiiitous  perfons  for  the 
fragn':ents  of  that  feaft  which  was  fo  plentiful  to  thofe 
who  fat  within  at  the  table!  Improve  this,  O  my  fcuj, 
by  confidering  the  diflferent  ftates  of  the  church  tri- 
umphant^ and  lb  at  which  is  yet  militant. 

The 


2tZ4'  Memoirs  of 

The  church  triumphant  is  in  pofTeflion  of  eternal 
blifs,  happy  in' the  fruition  ot  God  in  his  fulleft  love, 
and  is  continually  fealled  at  the  marriage-fupper  of 
the  Lamb  :  while  the  church  tnilitantf  as  yet  without 
the  door  of  heaven,  is  glad  of  fonie  taftes  of  thofe 
pleafures  which  are  earnefts  of  the  purchafed  polTef- 
iion,  and  previous  gufts  of  it  ;  or,  as  it  were,  fome  of 
the  fragments  of  the  full,  conftant  and  delicious  fcafts 
of  thofe  blelTed  inhabitants  of  the  New  Jerufalem. 

O  Lord,  I  naoft  humbly  befeech  thee,  entertain  me 
fomctimes  with  fome  taftes  of  the  joys  which  thofe 
partake,  who  are  prefent  withthyfelf!  Let  me  fee 
through  the  lattice,  till  I  fhall  fee  thee  as  the  pure  in 
J.eart  Ihall  fee  thee  in  another  world  ;  that  fo  I  may 
long  to  be  dilTolved,  and  be  with  Chrifl:.  Believing 
in  thee,  let  me  even  here  rejoice  with  joy  imfpeakable 
and  full  of  glory,  which  may  make  me  thankful  to 
thee  for  what  I  here  enjoy  of  thee  ;  knowing  that 
Chrifl:  poiTeiTed  by  faith  is  a  young  heaven,  glory  in 
tlie  bud: — and  thereby  do  thou  raife  mydelires  to  go 
to  thofe  celeftial  manfions  where  glory  is  full  blown, 
and  where  I  lliall  be  entertained  with  rivers  of  pleaf- 
ures at  thy  right  hand  for  evermore  ! 

Gn  my  gardener's  chooftng  young  thriving fiocks  to  graf: 
on,  and  rejecting  old  and  withered  ones. 

My  gardener's  care,  in  grafting,  to  choofe  young 
and  iiourifliing  ftocks,  and  paffing  by  thofe  which  are 
old  and  withered,  puts  me  in  mind  of  God's  dealings 
with  his  creatures,  in  grafting  his  grace  upon  their 
hearts.  .  , - 

Though  the  mercy  of  God  ought  not  to  be  confined 
to  any  age,  yet  we  may  obferve  that  God  doth  not  tre- 
quently  v/ork  faving  grace  in  old  and  withering  crea- 
tures,  but  choofes  young  difciples,  delighting  to  graft 
his  grace  on  fuch,  that  they  may  go  on  to  bring  fortii 
more  fruit  in  old  age,  having  given  God  the  Spring  oi 
their  lives  by  a  folemn  ad  of  early  dediealion.  Thefe 

by 


The  Countess  OF  Warwick.  125 

fetting  out  betimes  on  their  journey  to  heaven,  have  a 
long  time  in  which  to  glorify  God,  and  to  be  exam- 
pies  and  encouragers  to  others  to  come  in  and  ferve 
i^cd,  by  aiiuiing  them  that  his  yoke  is  eafy,  that  all 
his  ways  are  pleafantnefs,  and  his  paths  peace. 

O  Lord.  I  moft  humbly  befeech  thee,  by  this  medi- 
tation, Jet  my  heart  be  lifted  up  in  the  high  praifes  of 
thee,  my  great  and  good  God,  tor  not  fuffering  m,c  to 
continue  fo  long  under  the  reigning  power  of  lin,  as 
to  be  caft  off,  like  an  old  and  withered  ftock  ;  but  that 
thou  wert  pleafed  to  iliew  me  the  beauties  of  hoiinefs 
betimes,  before  the  autumn  of  my  age  !  Though, Lord, 
I  confefs,  v/ith  St.  Auguftine,  that  too  iate,  O  Lord,  I 
knev/  and  loved  thee,  and  heartily  grieve  that  I  did  not, 
as  I  ought,  devote  the  entire  fpring  of  my  years  to^ 
thee,  but  did  give  fo  much  of  my  young  tim>e  to  C\n  and' 
folly,  being  too  conformable  to  the  v^ickcd  v/orld  ! 

ButO  !  for  ever  admired  be  thy  mercy,  which  pluck- 
ed me  as  a  brand  out  of  the  fire,  and  left  m.e  not  to  be 
fuel  for  everlafting  burnings  !  Thou  mighteit.  Lord., 
juflly  have  faid  to  me,  Thou  art  filthy  ;  he  filthy  filll : 
and  mightell  have  puniihed  my  former  iniquity,  by 
leaving  me  to  die  in  my  fms.  But,  bleiled  be  thy 
name,  thou  didft  implant  in  me  the  graces  of  thy  holy 
Spirit  before  my  old  age  ;  by  which  thou  haft  been 
pieafed  to  give  me  mere  time  to  ferve  thee,  and  taf^e 
the  pleafurts  of  thy  fervice  \  and  haft  thereby  enabled 
me  to  declare  to  others  that  thou  art  good  to  the  foul 
that  feeks  thee,  and  that  the  purei'l,  moft  fatisf)ing 
and  hfting  pleafures  are  to  be  found  in  a  holy  and 
ftricl  walk  with  thee,  that  in  keeping  thy  command- 
ments tliere  is  great  rev/ard,  and  that  the  religious 
have  their  joys,  though  the  blind  finners  of  this  world 
want  eyes  to  fee  them.  Lord,  make  me  now  in  my 
old  age  to  bring  for;h  more  fruit,  that  thou  mayft  not 
fay  of  me,  as  juftly  thou  didft  of  the  fruitlefs  fig-tree^, 
Qui.  it.  down. I  vjhy  cumbers  it  the  ground  i 

On. 


126  Memoirs  of 

On  feeing  a  fine  carpet  taken  off  a  dufty  table. 

While  this  elegant  carpet  was  upon  the  table,  it 
might  be  thought  very  fine  and  clean,  but  when  tlie 
adorning  cover  was  removed,  how  foul  and  duliy  was 
it  found  to  be  ! 

This  brings  to  mind  a  formal  profefTor,  who  places 
all  his  religion  in  the  formality  of  outward' duties, 
which  to  beholders  make  him  appear  decently  ;  but  all 
this  while,  under  that  outfide  appearance  of  devotion^ 
his  heart  is  foul  and  filthy  ;  his  care  being  only  to  ap- 
pear, like  a  painted  fepulchre,  beautiful  without,whiIe 
within  there  is  all  uncleahnefs.  So  he  thinks  by  a 
hypocritical  outfide  to  conceal  c\\  his  faults,  and  ferve 
the  devil  fecurely  in  the  livery  of  Chrift. 

O  Lord,  I  hutnbly  befeech  thee,  fuffer  me  not  to 
fatisfy  myfelf  with  the  outward  formality  of  duties, 
which  may  feem  well  to  fpeclators  ;  but  make  me  ta 
mind  their  inward  and  fpiritual  performance,  and  how 
my  heart  is  afFecledin  them.  Let  me  look  to  heart- 
purification,  knowing  that  thou,  my  great  God,  look- 
ed at  the  heart  ;  and  that  though  Lmay  by  covering 
over  a  finful  heart  with  a  fine  outward  formality,  de- 
ceive men,  yet  I  cannot  deceive  thee,  the  great  Search- 
er of  the  heart,  before  whom  all  things  are  naked  and 
open. 

On  lighting  many  candles  at  one. 

This  candle,  tliat  has  lighted  fo  many,  ftill  gives  as 
much  light  as  it  did  before,  and  has  loil  nothing  by 
what  it  has  imparted  to  them. 

Improve  this,  O  m.y  foul,  by  confidering  that  fome 
excellent  Chriftians,  like  John  Baptlft,  that  burning 
and  jhining  light,  are  fo  confplcuous,  that  ail  behold- 
ers take  notice  of  their  well-ordered  converfations  ; 
their  light  fo  fnining  before  mxen,  that  others,  feeing 
their  good  works,  are  thereby  excited  to  glorify  God. 
They  are  fo  communicative  of  that  light  with  which 

God . 


The  Countess  OF  Warwick.  127 

God  hath  vouchfafed  to  illuminate  their  underftand- 
ings,  that  they  are  in  a  fpiritual,  what  Job  was  in  an- 
other fenfe,  eyes  to  the  blind ;  and  are  ftill  teaching 
young  difciples  what  ihey,  who  are  old,  have  beea 
taught  of  God,  and  fo  are  training  them  up  in  Cb.rif- 
tianity.  Yet  by  imparting  their  knowledge  of  God, 
they  know  him  not  lefs  ihemfelves,  but  many  timies 
the  more  ;  and  while  they  are  acquainting  others  with 
the  pleafures  of  religion,  and  bringing  them  into  the 
holy  path  which  leads  to  eternal  life,  they  hinder  not 
their  own  prog;rers  to  heaven. 

O  Lord,  I  moll:  humbly  befeech  thee,  let  this  med- 
itation provoke  me  to  com.municate,more  than  I  have 
ever  yet  done,  to  my  fellow-Chriftians,  efpecially  to 
my  family  under  my  authority,  what  I  know  of  thee  ; 
that  by  declaring  how  good  a  God  thou  art,  I  may 
bring  others  to  know  thee,  not  only  with  a  general, 
but  an  experimental  knowledge,  fuch  as  will  make 
them  fay  as  I  do,  that  thou  art  goody  and  deft  good.  O 
let  me  by  declaring  what  thou  haft  been  to  my  foul, 
caufe  others  to  join  me  in  adoring  thee  tor  thy  great- 
nefs,  and  loving  thee  for  thy  goodnefs,  that  we  may 
magnify  thy  name  together  ;  and  that  I  may  be  at 
once  a  burning  and  Ihining  light  myfclf,  and  inftru- 
mental  to  impart  light  to  others. 

On  a  pcrf on  of  lively  genius  071  d  great  knowledge y  hu. 
unfancfified. 
This  perfon,  who  in  this  profane  age,  is  celebrated 
as  a  great  wit,  and  is  very  acceptable  to  all  his  com- 
panions on  that  account,  yet  makes  fo  ill  a  ufe  of  the 
parts  God  hath  beftowed  en  him,  that  he  employs 
them  only  to  laugh  and  jefl  at  all  that  is'facredbr  feri- 
ous  ;  endeavoring  to  turn  all  devotion  into  ridicule. 
Thus  he  perverts  the  know^ledge  that  God  has  con- 
ferred on  him  ;  and  infcead  of  glorifying  with  it  his 
great  Creator,  renders  it  an  iniirument  of  his  own 
-deftruction,  a  torch  to  light  him  to  damnation. 

C  Lord, 


128     ^  Memoirs  of 

O  Lord,  I  mod  humbly  befeech  thee,  let  this  med- 
itation make  me  choofe  to  have  a  little  fandlified 
kno'.vledge,  rather  than  the  quickcft  and  moft  elevated 
parts  iinfan£lified.  Help  me  to  improve  the  powers 
thou  hail  bellowed  upon  me,  to  thy  honor,  that  I  may 
never  fight  againft  thee  with  thy  own  weapons,  but 
bring  fome  glory  to  thee  by  them  !  O  be  pleafed  to 
give  me  light  in  my  head,  and  fire  in  my  heart,  even 
that  fire  from  heaven  by  which  I  may  inflame  others 
with  true  zeal  for  thy  glory  ;  that  ufing  for  thee  the 
vveak  parts  thou  bait  vouchfafed  to  me,  I  may  by  the 
little  knowledge  I  have,  be  lighted  to  the  regions  of 
blifs,  while  others,  with  their  greateft  knowledge, 
devoid  of  grace,  go  down  to  utter  darknefs. 


We  conclude  the  memoirs  of  this  pious  I;idy  with 
fome  pallUges  of  a  Letter  which  ilie  wrote  to  Earl 
Berkeley,  in  reply  to  hlsrecueft  of  fome  rules  for  a  ;-e- 
ijgious  life. 

As  Toon    as  you  awake,  fix  your 

thoughts  on  that  God  who  gives  you  time  to  think. 
Do  as  holy  David  did,  who  faid,  When  I  woke^  I  am 
ftill  zvith  Thee.  Conlider  that  your  bed  might  have 
been  your  grave  ;  for  many,  every  night,  go  down  to 
the  place  of  iilence.  Conndcr  alfo  what  a  mercy  fleep 
IS.  If  we  mifs  but  a  night's  reft,  how  burdenfome 
and  uneaO/  v;e  are  to  ourfelves.  Therefore  begin  the 
morning  'with  blefiing  God  for  it  ;  and  then  com- 
mune with  your  own  heart  upon  your  bed,  and  be  fiill. 
Reflect  what  a  mercy  it  is  to  have  another  day  added 
to  your  life.  Think  what  many  a  poor,  dying  crea- 
ture would  give  for  a  day  to  repent  in  ;  and  at  what 
a  high  rale,'if  it  were  to  be  purchafed,  the  damned 
jfpiri'ts  would  purchafe  a  day  to  repent  in.  Confid- 
cr  that  a  day  is  a  precious  thing.     The  Emperor  Vei- 

pafiaa 


The  CotTNTEss  OF  Warwick.  12^ 

-'•afian,  a  heathen  could  fay,  when  he  had  fpent  n  day 
U'ithout  doing  good  :  "  O  my  friends,  I  have  loil:  a 
day  !"  Another  would  fay  :  "  He  was  not  corthy  the 
Dame#of  a  man,  who  fpent  a  whole  day  in  worldly 
pleafures."  Rennember  that  this  little  moment  of  time 
is  all  we  have  given  us  in  which  to  provide  for  eter- 
nity ;  and  therefore  is  not  to  be  thrown  away  care- 
iefsly,  as  if  we  had'no  God  to  ferve,  no  foul  to  fave. 
When  you  are  ready  to  retire  to  your  clofet,  let 
none  of  the  bufmcfs  of  the  world  be  hrfl:  difpatched^ 
-ihough  the  devil  be  ever  fo  bufy  to  perfuadc  you  to  it : 
but  fay  to  all  your  worldly  employments,  Stay  here, 
while  I  go  yonder  and  worfnip.  When  you  fliutyour 
door,  have  a  care  tcfnut  out  vain,  diftradting  thoughts 
which  will  be  very  bufy  to  fleal  away  your  heart.— 
)3egin  your  private  devotions  by  reading  fome  portion 
of  ihe  word  of  God,  and  remember  it  is  the  word  bv 
which  we  mufi  one  day  be  judged.  When  you  havl- 
xlone  this,  confider  ferioufly  what  you  are  going  about ; 
t-iat  you  are  going  to  fpeak  to  liiat  God,  before  whom 
tlie  angels  andcherubhii  cover  theirfaces  in  reverence^ 
as  not  able  or  worthy  to  behold  fo  much  glory  ;  an.' 
before  whom  the  father  of  the  faithful  efteemed  him- 
i<i\l  duft  and  ajhes.  Therefore  proflrate  yourfclf  be- 
fore the  mort  High  with  humility,  remembering  that 
lie  has  faid,  He  zuill  have  refpect  to  the  lowly  ;  and 
)et  come  with  confidence,  as  to  a  gracious  Father, 
who  has  prornifed  that  whsfoever  c^mes  to  h'nn  JhaJ! 
in  no  wife  be  caft  out,  that  zvhilc  we  are  yet  Jpeahingy 
he  will  hear.  Reme'mber  that  prayer  is  the  key  of 
heaven  ;  and  t!iat  it  is  by  prayer  you  can  pour  out  all 
your  wants  to  God,  as  to  a  moft  'loving  Fathef,  ^\ir(i 
a  confidence  that  he  will  fupply  them.  Not  (  nly 
make  confcienceof  prayer,  but  make  confcience  alfo 
how  you  pray.  Do  rot  fatiffy  yourfelf  with  the 
body  of  t'ae  duty  without  the  foul ;  but  a?  pious  Han- 
r.ah  did,  pour  cut  your  fpirit  before  the  Lord,  and  iiiis 
in  the  name  of  Cfirifl,  for  fiich  things  as  you  ftynd  i* 
w  need 


53©  Memoirs  of 

iieed  of.  Remember  that  David  faid  the  Lord  had 
•heard  the  voice  of  his  zvceplng.  Therefore,  if  you 
<:an,  weep  for  your  fins.  At  leaft,  mourn  that  you. 
cannot  mourn,  for  finning againft  fo  gracious  aJFath- 
-er  :  and  do  not  leave  your  prayers,  till  you  have  enr> 
joyed  fome  communion  with  God  in  them. 

Be  as  cheerful  as  you  can.  Give  me  leave  to  af- 
•fure  you,  that  however  the  devil  and  wicked  men 
may  perfuadeyou  that  religion  will  make  you  melan- 
choly, I  >can  alTert  from  my  own  experience,  that 
nothing  can  give  you  fuch  comfort,  ferenity  andcom- 
pofednefs  of  mind.  This  will  keep  you  clear  of  dif- 
quicting  remorfes.  It  will  give  you  the  peace  of  God 
that  paiTes  all  underflanding,  and  the  continual  feaft 
of  a  good  confcience.  It. will  make  you  rejoice  with 
joy  unfpeakable  and  full  of  glory.  It  will  calm  your 
defires,  and  quiet  your  wiflies,  fo  that  you  fhall  find 
that  the  confolations  of  God  are  not  fmall.  You  will 
£nd  you  have  made  a  happy  exchange,  having  gold  for 
brafs,  and  pearls  for  pebbles.  Truly,  my  Lord,  I 
am  upon  trial  convinced  that  all  the  pleafures  of  this 
world  are  not  fatisfaclory.  We  expect  a  great  deal 
more  from  them  than  we  find.  Though  I  had  as 
much  as  moft  in  this  kingdom,  to  pleafe  me,  and  was 
an  eye-witnefs  to  all  the  glories  of  the  court,  and  was 
young  and  vain  enough  to  have  my  ihare  in  its  vani- 
ties, I  never  found  that  they  fatisfied  me  ;  God  having 
given  me  a  nature  incapable  of  fatisfaftion  in  any 
thing  below  the  higheft  excellency.  I  never  in  all 
jny  life  experienced  real  and  fatisfying  comfort,  but 
in  the  v/sys  Cii  God,  and  I  am  very  confident  that 
your  Lordlhip  never  will.  Therefore  I  befeech  you 
to  make  the  experiment,  and  then  I  verily  believe 
you  will  be  of  my  opinion,  that  the  ways  of  religion 
are  plcafantnefs,  and  all  her  paths  peace. 

Set  apart  fome  time  every  day  for  reading  good 
books,  and  for  meditation.  Do  not  fear  that  a  little 
jtime  alone  will  make  ygu  melancholy.    You  will  find 

yourfelf 


The  Countess  OF  Warwick.  13T 

yoiirfelf  never  lefs  alone  :  for  certainly  that  God  wha 
TnaUcs  all  others  good  company,  miift  needs  be  beic 
himfelf. 

Be  often  In  the  profitable  work  of  felf-examina- 
tion.  Be  not  a  ftranger  at  home,  but  pray  St.  Au- 
gcjftine's  prayer  :  **  Lord,  make  me  to  know  thee, 
and  myfclf  !"  Yon  will  find  the  practice  of  this  rule 
conduce  much  to  the  good  of  your  foul.  This  will 
make  you  fee  what  fin  is  moH:  predominant,  and  what 
grace  is  mod  weak,  and  has  need  of  ilrcngthening. 
It  'A'ill  keep  fin  irom  growing  undifcerned. 

Meditation  is  a  moll  profitable  duty.  Therefore 
meditate  on  the  tranfitory  and  unfatisfying  nature  of 
all  this  world's  glories.  Your  Lordlbip  has,  young 
a«you  are,fecn  fuchfirange  revolutions  as  are  fufficient 
to  convince  you  that  there  is  nothing  certain  in  this 
Jife,  and  that  all  is  vanity  and  vexation  of  fpirit. — 
God  has  in  our  age  call  contempt  upon  Princes,  and 
ftaincd  all  the  glory  of  human  exeellencies,  to  make 
us  ceafe  to  put  confidence  in  man,  whofe  breath  is  in 
his  noflrlls  ;  for  wherein  is  he  to  be  accounted  of? 
God  hath  humbled  all  the  gods  of  the  earth,  that  he 
might  be  God  alone  ;  and  hath  imbittered  the  ftream, 
that  we  might  apply  to  the  fofintain.  In  this  manner 
often  meditate,  that  you  may  be  kept  from  over-loving 
any  fublunary  enjoyniei>t- 

Meditate  on  the  Ihortnefs  of  your  life,  and  the  im- 
certainty  of  the  time  of  your  death,  on  the  dark 
abyfics  of  eternity,  and  the  great  account  you  muft 
give  of  all  you  have  done  in  the  body,  whither  it  be 
good  or  evil  :  for  vje  muji  all  appear  hcf ere  the  judg- 
ment feat  of  Chrifl.  ■  Think  too,  of  the  joys  of  heaven  ; 
of  the  refi:  that  remains  to  the  people  ot  God  ;  of  the 
better  country,  even  the  heavenly  ;  of  the  joys  which 
eye  hath  not  feen,  nor  ear  heard,  nor  the  heart  of  man 
conceived,  but  v/hich  God  hath  laid  up  for  thofe  who 
love  him.  Heaven  will  make  us  happy,  not  as  phi- 
IcCophy  pretends  to  ^o^  by  the  confincincnty  but  by  the 

fruition 


33«  Memoirs  op 

fruition  of  our  defires.  There  fhall  we  be  paft  doing,,, 
as  vrell  as  fuffering  ill.  There  all  tears  Ihall  be  wip- 
ed from  our  eyes,  we  fhall  obtain  joy  and  gladnefs,. 
and  forrow  and  fighing  fliali  flee  away.  They  arQ 
unmixed  blefiings  which  are  referved  for  the  other  life. 
We  (hall  there  enjoy  health  without  ficknefs,  pleafure 
v/ithout  forrow,  and  happinefs  to  eternity  :  but  what 
is  above  all,  zve  Jhall  be  ever  with  the  Lordy  and  fee 
Him  who  will  be  all  in  all  to  us.  Yea,  we  fhall  fol- 
low the  Lamb  whitherfoever  he  goes.  I  would  have 
you  frequent  in  fuch  meditations  as  thefe,  that  while 
you  are  mufing,  the  fire  of  heavenly  devotion  may 
burn,  and  inflame  your  heart  with  love  to  God  j  that 
io  your  meditation  of  hirn  may  be  Iweet. 

I  v/ould  alio  recommend  to  you  the  frequenting  of 
the  public  ordinances,  which  are  excellent  helps  to 
devotion  :  God  hath  promifed  that  they  who  wait  on 
him  lliall  renew  their  ftrength,  and  that  he  will  make 
them  joyful  in  his  houfe  of  prayer.  I  know  your 
IvOrdlhip  too  well  to  perfuade  you  to  works  of  charity  ; 
for  I  am  not  ignorant  that  your  Lordihip  abounds  in 
good  works.  Oiily  to  encourage  you  to  continue  in 
tills  exerciie,  I  would  put  you  in  mind  that  God  hath, 
laid  :  He  that  givelh  to  the  poor y  lendcth  to  the  Lord  : 
.;.nd  that  whojoever  gives  a  difciple  in  the  name  of  adif^ 
clphy  though  il  be  hut  a  cup  of  cdd  water,  fiall  not  Ufa 
his  reward. 

My  Lord,  I  fear  I  have  tired  yon  with  too  many 
tedious  ndes,.  and  lliall  therefore  put  an  end  to  them, 
ivhen  I  have  added  one  more  ;  which  is,  to  conclude 
theday  always  with  prayer,  and  not  give  Ileep  to  your 
eyes,  till  you  have  called  yourfelf  to  account,  what  mer- 
cies you  have  received  in  the  day,  that  you  may  praife 
God  for  them  ;  and  wdiat  fms  you  have  committed,  that 
you  ma'/  be  hiimbled  for  them— remembering  what 
the  good  Primate  of  Armagh  faid  ;  that  the  befi  tnan 
living  did  enough  in  the  day^  to  bring  him  upon  his  knes^ 


Lady  Elizabeth  Brooke.  133 

fit  night.  Therefore  every  night  make  your  peace 
with  God,  remembering  that  many  have  fhut  their 
eyes  in  a  healthful  fleep,  and  yet  waked  in  another 
world. 


Lady  ELIZABETH  BROOKE, 


OHE  was  born  January  i66r,of  n.n  nncient 
and  refpedable  family,  from  which,  however,  fhe  re- 
ceived lefs  honor,  than  (he  rel1e£ted  on  it  by  her  fm- 
gular  virtues. 

In  her  infancy  fhe  loft  her  mother,  and  in  her  chili- 
hood,  her  father  ;  fo  that  fhe  was  early  call  on  the 
care  of  the  Father  of  the  fatherlefs. 

She  had  rare  endowments  from  nature  ;  an  excellent 
mind,  lodged  in  a  fine  form,  and  looking  through  a 
beautiful  countenance,  the  traces  of  which  were  dif- 
cernible  in  old  age.  She  pofreHed  an  extraordinary 
quicknefs  cf 'apprehenfion,  and  richnefs  of  fancy, 
united  Vvlth  a  folid  judgment,  and  retentive  memory. 

But  her  greatefl  glory  was  religion,  in  which  (lie 
was  eminent.  She  devoted  herfelf  early  to  God, 
remembering  him  as  her  Creator  and  Redeemer  in  thti 
days  of  her  youth.  And  ilie  continued  to  lualk  zvlth 
God  with  great  deadinefs  through  a  long  life  ;  fo 
that  {lie  was  found  at  death,  not  only  full  of  years, 
but  full  of  grace. 

As  fhe  early   applied  herfelf  to  religion,    and  e:?- 
perienced  its  pov/er;  her  genius,  indul^ry,   length.Qf. 
M  %.  time;, 


J 34  Memoirs  or 

time,  life  of  excellent  books,  and  converfe  with  learn-*- 
ed  men,  all  united,  rendered  her  one  of  the  mofl  in- 
telligent of  her  iex,  efpecially  in  divinity,  and  the  holy 
fcriptures. 

Her  knowledge  of  the  book  of  God  was  not  con- 
fined t©  the  praclical,  but  extended  to  the  doftrinal 
and  critical  parts.  Many  of  the  difficulties  in  Scrip- 
ture chronology  fhe  was  able  to  folve. 

She  could  difcourfe  pertinently  on  the  great  points 
of  theology.  She  could  oppofe  an  atheift  by  argu- 
ments drawn  from  topics  of  natural  religion  ;  and 
anfwer  the  obje£lions  of  other  cavillers  by  weapons 
drawn  from  the  Scriptures.  Students  in  divinity 
might  profitably  fpend  their  time  in  hearing  her  dif- 
courfe ;  and  fome  of  her  own  chaplains  confeifed  that 
her  converfation  was  more  edifying  as  welhas  plea- 
fant,  than  their  fludies  \  and  that  while  they  taughty. 
they  I  earned. 

Thefe  uncommon  acquifitions  will  appear  \t^^ 
wonderful,  when  v;e  confider  the  affiduity  and  IkilF 
•with  which  (he  ufed  the  beft  means  of  knowledge — 
She  was  an  indefatigable  reader  of  books,  efpecially 
the  Scriptures,  and  the  moll  valuable  commentaries 
on  them.  She  perufed' a  multitude  of  treatifes,  not 
only  of  the  practical,  but  the  learned  kind  ;  and,  a- 
mong  others,  feveral  of  the  ancient  philofophers. — i 
She  vv'as  a  moft  diligent  inquirer  ;  embracing  every 
opportunity  of  fuggeilip-g  queilions  to  her  learned, 
friends,  on'  fubjeds  moft  intereding  and  difficult  ; 
luch  as  cafes  of  confcience,  obfcure  texts  of  fcrip- 
ture,  and  the  accomplifliment  of  the  prophecies.  She 
generally  took  notes  from  the  books  i\\&  read,  that  ffie 
might  recur  to  the  mofl:  im.portant  ideas  they  con- 
tained, without  a  fecond  perufai.  She  was  induftri- 
ous  to  preferve  what  either  intruded  her  mind,  or 
affe£ted  her  heart,  in  the  ferm.ons  flie  heard,  to  which 
fae  gave  great  attention  while  they  were  preachedj^. 
and  had  them  repealed  in  her  family  j  making  them 

tl;<j 


Lady  Elizabeth  Srooke-  135 

the  fubje6ts  of  converfation  not  only  foon  after  their 
delivery,  but  the  following  week.  Befide  this,  flic 
wrote  down  the  fubftance  of  thein,  and  difpofed  many 
of  them  into  quellions  and  anfwers,  or  diflind  fiib- 
je<5^s  fuitable  for  meditation.  By  thefe  methods, 
fne  was  conftantly  either  enlarging  her  knowledge,  or 
confirming  what  flie  had  already  acquired. 

Thefe  precious  treafures  flie  was  aliiduous  to  im- 
prove, through  divine  help,  on  which  fnefelt  a  habit- 
ual and  fenfible  dependance,  to  the  bed  praclical  pur- 
pofes  ;  making  it  the  bufinefs  of  her  life  to  work  out 
her  falvation,to  adorn  her  Chriftian  profelfion,  and  to 
glorify  her  God. 

Her  piety  was  (irici  and  unlverfal  ;  having  refpecl 
to  all  God's  commands,  whether  of  the  firft  or  fecond 
table.  Nor  was  it  lefs  affectionate.  Her  whole  heart 
was  warmly  and  vigoroufly  engaged  in  religion.  Yet 
her  zeal,  grounded  in  fincerity,  was  guided  by  exem- 
plary prudence  and  difcretion. 

Her  religion  was  likewifL'  grave,  foiid,  fubdantial, 
without  any  tindure  of  enthufiafm  ;  though  ihe  had 
a  cordial  and  experimental  perfuafion  of  a  divine  in- 
fluence, and  firmly  believed  that  the  fame  Holy  Spirit 
which  di6lated  the  fcriptures,  both  guides  the  under- 
ifandings,  and  fanclifies  the  hearts,  of  ail  true  Chrif- 
tians. 

As  her  own  pra6lice  was  holy,  fhe  endeavored  that' 
her  family  might  walk  in  the  fame  fteps,  and  with 
her,  fcrve  ihe  Lord.  For  this  purpofe,  Ihe  not  only 
kept  up  family  prayer,  with  the  reading  of  the  fcrip- 
tures, morning  and  evening,  and  the  repetition  of  fer- 
Hions  on  the  fabbath,  but  engaged  a  divine  to  come 
every  fortnight  to  her  houfe,  to  perform  the  office  of 
a  catechift,  by  expounding  methodically  the  prin- 
ci])les  of  religion,  and  examining  the  fervants. 

While  her  heart  expanded  with  love  to  all  mankind, 
fhe  felt  a  particular  complacency  in  Chriftians,  and 
in  thofe  moll  of  alKwho  exhibited  molt  of  the  image 

of 


156  Memoirs  op 

of  God.  The  evidences  of  grace,  thouf^h  in  perfons 
on  feme  accounts  lefs  agreeable,  were  to  ner  a  recom- 
mendation both  more  certain  and  more  po\vertul,lhan 
any  or  every  other  accomplillimcnt.  Among  the 
friends  of  Chrift,  his  miniiters  had  a  peculiar  ihare 
of  her  regard.  She  manifeiicd  herfc-ar  of  the  Lord 
by  obeying  tke  voice  of  his  Jervants.  What  they  de- 
livered in  harmony  with  the  Scriptures,  llie  received 
and  treated  as  a  mellage  from  God. 

In  ?-e7ideri}ig  to  all  their  dues,  :ix\d  in  matters  of 
juflice  generally,  flie  was  itridlly  and  uniformly  con- 
fcicntious.  To  have  a  title  to  any  thing  /'/;  laWy  was 
little  to  her,  unlefs  it  was  ratified  in  the  court  of  con- 
fcience. 

Her  liberality  was  remarkable.  She  con  fide  red 
herfelf  as  only  the  Reward  of  her  eltate  ;  and  gav-e 
away  a  great  portion  of  it,  for  the  encouragement  of 
the  mintftry,  and  the  relief  of  the  indigent.  Every 
one,  indeed,  Vvho  hadoccafion  for  her  charity,  experi- 
enced it,  and  iiithe  way  which  was  mort  fuitable  arid 
beneficial.  So  cheerful  was  llie  in  the  difcharge  of 
this  part  of  duty,  that  when  an  occafion  prefcnted,  it 
was  never  a  qu'eilion  with  her,  whether  ihe  fliould 
give,  but  only  in  what  proportion  ;  on  which  fubje6l- 
it  was  common  for  her  frankly  to  refer  herfelf  to 
others,  faying,  **  I  will  give. what  you  think  is  mest 
and  fit  in  this^cafe.'' 

Her  friends  experienced  from  her  a  benevolence 
and  largencfs  of  heart  w  hich  greatly  adorned  and  re- 
commended religion.  It  could  little  have  been  ex- 
pected.that  one  fo  communicative  to  the  poor,  fliould 
be  able  to  difplay  fuch  generofity  to  thofe  who  wepe 
not  (o.     But  her  economy  performed  wonders. 

To  all  who  applied  for  herallidancein  their  fpiritu- 
al  concerns,  not  excepting  the  meanelt,  llie  moll 
lesdily  imparted  fuitable  inllrudion,  ccunfel  and  com- 
fort. The  prudence,  patience  and  companion  W'l^h 
■which  the  treated  fuch  as  were  tempted,  or  dilcuict- J 

ill 


Lady   Fli/abettj  I3roo/.e,  13^ 

in  mind,  were  remarkable.  One  of  her  fcrvants- 
coming  to  her  clofet  on  thisaccount,  and  beginnin- 
to  open  to  her  the  grief  of  her  mind,  Ihc  injoined  hci 
to  i*jr'^',c{  that  (lie  wu.s  a  fervant ;  and  having  difcourlcd 
with  her  with  great  prudence  and  tendernefs,  (he  dii- 
milled  her  much  comforted. 

That  part   of  religion    which  is   pccnliarlj   ftyled 
dcvoiioHy  was  her  folacc  and  delight.     A  conliderahh^ 
portion   of  her  time  was   daily   employed  in  prayer, 
fcarching  the  fcriptnres,  and  meditation.   In  thefe  e\  - 
crcifes,  which  were  her  clement,   (lie  convfrftd  wiiJi 
God,  and  wa?  lead  alone  when  moft  alone.  Slic  reftcf' 
not  in  the  form,  but  commanded  the  aftefl ions  of  h: 
foul  to  wait  on  her  (iud  ;  at  fomctimes  enjoying  fe.) 
fibie  anfl   relrelhing  communion  ;  at  others  lament 
ing  her  infirmities,    the  difliculiy  of  praying  ariglu, 
and  of  preferving  a  fLnfe  of  the  diviiiC   majelly  and 
pre  fence. 

The  fabbath  was  her  dcliglit,  and  a  day  in  God's 
houfe  better  to  her  than  a  thoufand  others.  The  en- 
joyment of  C.od  in  ordinances  was  a  kind  of  heaven 
to  her  fbnl.  Thr*ough  the  week,  flic  longed  for  the 
(lay  and  courts  of  the  Lord  ;  and  great  was  her  afflic- 
tioji,  when  her  hearing  was  fo  impaired  that  (he  could 
not  enjoy  public  worlhip,  though  few  fu[)plicd  the 
want  of  it  fo  well,  by  th.c  cxcrcifes  of  the  family  and 
clofet. 

Ami('n:  all  her  attainments,  (he  was  humble,  and 
cloathcd  with  the  ornament  of  a  lowly  fpirit.  She 
feemed  fmccrely  to  apprehend  that  otlicrs excelled  her 
in  godiinefs,  and  accoiinted  herfelf  among  the  lea H:  of 
faints.  The  original  v/riter  of  her  life  declares  thai 
'  notwithflandingher  quality,  hercxcpiifite  knowledge, 

*  eminent  grace,  and   tlie  high   value  her  friends  had 
*■  jnllly  for  her,  he  could  never  perceive  in  her,  in  the 

*  whole  courfe  of  eighteen  years  converfe,  the  lead  in- 
*-dication  of  vain-glory  or  ftif-admiravion.' 

Her 


13S  Memoirs  or 

Her  humility  was  of  an  excellent  kind;  the  fnr:t 
©f  great  knowledge,  a  deep  fenfe  of  the  corruption 
of  human  nature-,  with  the  imperfection  of  grace,  and 
the  remains  of  fm^  in  the  fandified.  It  was  cherifh- 
eil  by  a  realizing  fenfe  of  God,  and  acquaintance 
wiih  him,  by  a  frequent  examination  of  herfelf  and 
her  converfatloia  by  the  ftandard  of  the'  Scriptures, 
and  by  tenderly  abferving  how  fin  was  prone  to  mingls 
itfcif  in  fier  beft  actions. 

She  was  in  the  bed  fenfe  j^^/Z/f;  treating  all  around 
h.^r  with  the  courtefy  proper  to  their  ftations  ;  com- 
ply ing  where  the  could  with  innocence  ;  though  ftu- 
dioudy  careful  that  nothing  in  hercanverfation  might 
border  on  fuch  freedoms  as  diOionor  God,  and  blem- 
ilh  the  Chriftian  profeffion.  She  was  folicitous  in 
this  way  to  adorn  the  gofpel,  and  evince  that  reiigon> 
•wi-h  all  its  purity  and  ftridlnefi?,  involves  in  it  neither 
melancholy  nor  morofenel^s.  Nor  was  it  uncoiTimoQ 
for  her  greatly  to  deny  herfelf,  and  relinquifh  her  own 
rights  that  (he  might  avoid  giving  offence,  and  main^ 
tain  love  and  peace  in  the  church  and  world. 

She  carefully  avoided  cenforioufnefs  ;  putting  the 
beft  conftruction  on  the  words  and  actions  of  others  ; 
not  lightly  fpeaktng  evil  of  any,  nor  readily  receiv- 
ing an  evil  report.  She  peculiarly  abhored  a  cenforious 
fpirit  in  reference  to  preachers  and  fermons.  She 
v/as  a  moft  candid  hearer  ;  judicious  indeed,  and  crit>- 
ical,  but  very  diftant  from  feverity  and  captioufnefs. 
li  but  truth  were  fpoken,  and  piety  enforced,  though 
in  an  ordinary  method,  fhe  was  fo  far  fatisfied  as  to 
fmd  no  fault.  But  her  favorite  difcourfes  were  fuch 
as  were  either  peculiarly  argumentative,  or  clearly  il- 
luftrated  the  fenfe  of  Scripture,  or  unfolded  the  excel- 
lence of  the  gofpel,  or  dil^layed  Chrift  in  his  perfon, 
undertaking  and  offices,  or  dete61:ed  the  difference  be- 
tv/ecQ  the  real  and  almojl  Chriitian,  and  came  neareft 
the  confcience,  urging  the  exa6left  convcrfation,  a^nd 
thtj  ftrideft  government  of  the  heart,  thoughts  and  af-- 
fe£lions. .  Iii- 


"Lady  Elizabeth  Brooke.  73^ 

In  all  her  relations,  fhe  exhibited  the  Chrlflian. 
As  a  wife,  fhe  was  faithful,  affedionate,  prudent, 
complying.  As  a  mother,  watchful  and  indefatiga- 
ble ;  retraining  herchildien  from  evil,  bringing  ihem 
up  in  the  nurture  and  admonition  of  the  Lord,  con- 
ftantly  endeavoring  to  inftil.into  their  minds  the  prin- 
ciples of  holinefs,  cliarity  and  juftice.  Thofe  who  be- 
came her  children  by  marriage,  fhe  treated  with  the 
famekindnefs  and  aiFeclion  as  her  own.  To  her  fer- 
vants  and  tenants  file  was  jull:  and  good  :  to  her  neigh- 
bors, all  that  they  could  deine. 

She  was  greatly  endeared  to  her  particular  friends^ 
by  her  prudence,  fidelity,  and  almoft  excefs  of  love. 
She  was  fedulous  in  improving  her  friendfhips  to 
fcrve  the  great  purpofes  of  religion. 

Ey  thefe  excellencies,  and  iv.any  more  which  might 
;be  named,  (he  .obtained  a  g^^ody  and  (what  'i^.c  was  far 
Jrom  defiring}  2.  great  name.  She  had  the  moft  hon- 
orable tcllimoniaU  fromfeveral  eminent  divines  of  her 
day,  who  perfonally  knew  her.  One  of  them  (^ifhop 
Reynolds)  after  being  mofl  generoufly  entertained  at 
her  houfe,  declared  that  <  the  beft  of  his  entertainment 
was  his  converfc  with  fo  excellent  a  lady.'  Another, 
who  frequented  her  houfe,  (Dr.  Sibbs)  ufcd  to  fay 
that  *  he  went  to  other  places  to  fatisfy  others,  but 
that  he  went  thither  to  plcafe  himfelf.'  A  third  re- 
turned from  a  viiit  v/hich  he  made  her,  exclaiming 
that  *  the  one  half  was  not  told  iiim.' 

She  had  great  mercies,  and  interchangeably  great 
afHiclions.  The  firfl  (he  received  with  humility,  the 
lall  with  patience.  To  the  form^er  head  may  be  re- 
ferred the  great  kindnefs  of  her  hnlband,  a  numerous 
family,  and  plentiful  eftate  ;  a  fine  temperfiture  of 
body,  fo  that  fhe  was  feldom  fick,  though  never  flrong  ; 
the  continuance  of  her  fenfes,  the  vigor  of  her  intel- 
lects, and  the  foundnrfs  of  her  judgment,  even  in  the 
laft  years  of  her  life  ;  the  attention  and  refpe6f  fhe 
received  from  the  molt  refpectable  perfons  in  her  neigh- 

borhood  j 


140  TvIemoirs  Of 

borhood  ;  ihc  conclufion  offv-^n'O  ur.kitul  ia\v-Uj:ts, 
which  ns  iLc  ».?iJ  not  begin,  flie  could  not  prevent  \ 
the  bidding  ot  long  life,  and  that  of  feeing  every  fur- 
viving  branch  ot  her  family  amply  providrdiW.  What 
\va^  more  than  all,  (lie  enjoyed  much  ir.ward  peace, 
which,  ihorgh  fometimes  interrupted  bv  doubts  and 
fears,  was  generally  even  and  firm,  and  fometimes  ad- 
vanced to  joy  and  Arong  confolation. 

Her  affJclions  were  chieiiy  \vidowhood,and  thelofs 
of  ch.ildrcn.  The  lliarpeft  of  her  trials  was  the  un- 
timely death  of  her  laft  ion,  who  was  drowned.  It 
was  moil  fcverely  felt,  and  fceiiicd  to  threaten,  for  a 
time,  both  her  reafon  and  life.  But  i'o  gracioi'.i'y  was 
le  fitpported  and  carried  through,  that  fhc  furvived 
•'^.anv  \ears,  and  recovered  a  confiderable  meafure  of 
lie r  tonncr  cheerfulnefs.  1  n  her  greateft  dillrefs,  and 
^^hen  VciC  feemed  mofl  in  dangcrof  finking  under  this 
iJ  event,  Ihe  was  Hill  meek  and  refigned,  often  juf- 
litying  God,  r.cknowleduing^  the  rlghteoufnefs  of  the 
liifpenfation,  and  exprciling  a  lively  concern  left  her 
extreme  atHi^ion  Ihould  bring  diihouor  on  religion. 

The  cloie  of  her  life  was  a  langultliment  of  feve* 
ral  months,  attended  at  times  Avith  grievous  pain, 
which  Ihe  bore  with  exemplary  patience.  During 
her  fickncfs,  her  mind  was  calm,  ber  confcience  t\  it- 
nelfed  her  integrity,  and  ilie  maintained  an  unfliaken 
hope  in  God,  that  he  would  crown  his  grace  in  her 
with  perfeverance  and  eternal  glory.  Sh©  was  deep- 
ly fciJlbleof  her  need  of  Chriil,  adhered  to  him,  re- 
ioicevi  in  him,  and  defired  to  be  with  him.  She  ex- 
pired alraoil  infenfiblv,  patung  by  an  eafy  tranfitioa 
to  that  long-defired  rrjt  wbkb  r/meir.s  fs  ibe  feaple  cf 
C.J. 

To  conclude  oi?r  account  of  this  lady,  it  may  be 
remarked  of  her,  that  (he  had  the  knowledge  of  a  di- 
vine, the  faith,  purit\-  ST^d  zeal  of  a  Chri:!ian,  the 
wifdom  of  the  f^rpent,  and  the  innocence  of  the  dove. 
She  was  lerious,  but  net  mclafKholy  ;  and  cheerful, 

without 


Lady  Elizabeth  Bsooke.  141 

'7/ithout  any  tirdure of  levity.  She  was  very  holy, 
aii.'l  humble,  anl  thankftil  to  God  tor  all  his  mercifrs, 
and  above  all  tor  Jefus  Chrift,  en  whofe  merits  (he 
cn.ircjy  relied,  renouncing  all  her  own  works  in  the 
article  of  jiiilincation.  In  fine,  fhe  was  (to  iife  the 
cxpreffions  of  one  who  undertook  to  give  a  brief  id^a 
of  her  cliaracter)  a  Sarah  to  her  hufband,  a  Eunice  :o 
h^r  children,  a /. 5/1  to  her  gj-and-chiidren,  a    Z/-:/:^ 

;  mini  iters,  a  Martha  to  her  guefls,  a  Dorcas  to  tiis 

'-/or,  and  an  Any.a  to  her  God. 
She  left  behind  her  eviden<:cs   of  unufual  and  ad- 
mirable indultry  in  her  r^umerojsmanLfjripts,  among 
v/hich    were   the  following  :  A  Body   of  Divinity; 

ill-wing  what  a  Chriftian  mull  believe  and  pradlife 

Co'Iedions  of 'Commentaries  on  a  great  part  of  the 
Holy  Scriptures;  and  the  fum  of  the  controverfies 
between  the  Proteffants  and  Papifts  — Obfervations, 
Experiences,  and  Rules  for  practice.  Of  the  latter^ 
as  they  fe;:m  peculiarly*  an  irr>age  of  her  mind,  we 
have  kL'hclcd  the  moit  vaiuable  parr?,  and  prefent 
tliem,  as  happily  fupplying  ti-e  deied:5  ot  thefc  me- 
moirs of  her  life. 

Obsesvatio!?^.  /-nl»  Lxperiekces. 

f'ii^ifj  cf  the  y.:rl'J. 

All  my  comforts  b'^Iow,  are  dying  comfcrt?;.  Ko 
one  creature,  ntyrali  the  creatures  liia!.  ever  I  enioved, 
have  given  my  fouJ  faiisfadtion. 

Good  atiiom  vAil  hear  covf-deratim  :  but  ezil   aclkns 
VJiii  not. 

"Every  ad  of  p'ety   and  obedience   will  bear  ccn- 

fideration  ;  but  fo  will  not  any  (infni  action.      If  ue 

conHd:  r,  before  we  attempt  a  finful  a«ft ion,  either  Ave 

fcll  n-^:  comoiitir,  or  we  fhall  doit  with  regret,  and 

'^  a  conlcience 


f4.£  Memoirs  of 

:fi  confcience  half  fet  on  fire.  But  if  we  confider  be* 
fore  a  holy  adion  or  duly,  our  revoiving  thoughts 
%vill  much  animate  us  to  the  fervice .  Wherefore  I 
conclude  that^«yZ>^;//^j,  and  that  religion  jujiifi£s  itfelf. 

The  zyorfiip  of  God  is  piade  picafant  hy  a  fenfe  of  his 
prefcnce  in  it. 
God's  prefence  was  formerly  raanifefted  by  vifibic 
iigns,  as  the  cloud,  lire,  and  brighlnefs  :  but  though 
we  cannot  expe6l  thefe,  yet  we  have  the  fame  fpecial 
prefence  of  God  with  lis.  And  whenever  by  faith  v/e 
attain  any  lively  apprehenfions  of  it,  how  folemn, 
profitable  and  delightful  do  they  make  the  worfhip  of 
God  !  With  what  joy  do  they  bring  us  to  the  public 
aifemblies  ;  and  how  unwilling  are  we  to  be  kept 
horn  them,  when  we  have  this  expectation  from  them  ! 
And  finding  our  expectation  anfwered,  how  devoutly 
do  we  behave  in  them  !  How  joyfully  do  we  return 
heme,  as  thofe  who  have  feeaGod,and  converfed  with 
him.  !  ' 

//  is  difficult  to  pro'y  vjith out  feme  wanderivig  thoughts^ 

It  is  very  difficult  to  carry  fmcerity,'and  keep  iip  a 
fenfe  of  God,  through  every  part  of  prayer  ;  which  is 
r.ecelfary  to  be  endeavored,  and  is  the  life  of  the  duty.. 
I  find  it' hard  to  keep  my  foul  intent ;  for  my  thoughts 
are  fiippery  and  fwift,  and  my  heart  is  fnatched  away 
ibmetimes  againft  my  will,  and  before  I  am  aware  ; 
yea,  even  fometimes  when  I  have  made  the  greateft 
preparation,  and  had  the  greatest  refolutions,  through 
grace,  to  avoid  wandering  thoughts.  My  belt  prayers 
\herefore  needChrill's  incenfe  fo  perfume  them. 

A  deep  f erf e  of  God  in  prayer  is  defirahle  and  ravijhing. 

Could  I  underftand  my  near  approach  to  God  in 
prayer,  it  would  exalt  iriy  foul  above  meafurc.  And 
why  am  I  not  raviihcd  with  the  thoughts  of  being  ip 

the 


Lady  ]£lizabeth  SRCOiCE.  143 

the  prefence  of  God,  and  having  the  ear,  yea,  the  heart, 
of  the  King  of  heaven  r  It  is  nothing  but  want  of 
faith,  and  the  ftrange  power  of  fenfe,  that  weakens  my 
fpiritual  apprehenfions,  and  keeps  me  from  an  uii- 
fpeakable  delight  in  my  addrefles  to  God.  What  a 
high  privilege  is  this,  to  fpeak  to  the  great  Jehovah, 
as  a  child  to  a  Father,  or  a  friend  to  a  triend  !  But 
how  How  of  heart  am  I  to  conceive  the  glory  and  hap- 
pinefs  thereof  !  Could  I  but  manage  this  great  dmy 
as  I  oueht,  it  would  be  a  heaven  upon  earth  :  it  wculd 
bringGoddown  to  me,  or  carry  m.e  up  to  him.  Why 
fhould  I  not  be  carried  above  the  world,  when  I  am 
fo  near  to  God  r  Why  fhould  I  not  be  changed  into 
the  fam.e  image,  from  glory  to  glory  r  W^hy  am  1  noc 
even  tranfported  beyond  myrdf  ? 

IVe  ought  to  he  ccv.jlant  in  prayer, 

Incondancy  in  prayer  is  not  only  finful,  but  dan= 
gerous.  Cmifiion  breeds  dill  ike,  (irengihens  corrup- 
tion, difcourages  the  fpirit,and  animates  the  unregen- 
erate  part.  Conifancy  in  this  duty  breeds  a  holy  con- 
fidence towards  God.  Inconftancy  breeds  rtrangenefs. 
Upon  an  omillion,  I  muft  never  approach  God  ag?,in, 
or  my  next  prayer  muft  be  an  excrcifc  of  rcp£n:a||fe 
for  my  lall:  omiffion. 

Sincere  prayers  are  nrjcr  offered  in  lain. 

Formality  is   apt  to  grow  upon  our  fecret  praverr 
One  of  the  befl  ways  to  prevent  it,  is  to  come  to  Go 
•withanexpe6lation.  Thisfets  an  edge  upon  our  fpirit> 
I  do  not  enough  obferve  the  returns  o^  pravcr,  thou:: 
God  hath  faid,  I  Ihall   never  feck  him  in  vain.     But 
when  I  obferve,  Imuft  acknowledge  I  have  cailv  anf- 
wers  of  my  prayers,  in  fome  kind  or  other.      Nay,  I 
think  I   may  lay,  I    never  offered  a  fervent  prayer  to 
God,  but  I  received  fomething  from  him,  at  lealt  as  \o 
ihe  frame  of  my  own  l^nriu 

Fra)ir 


1^4-  ■  Memoirs  of 

Prayer  promotes  pic'Vy  and  acquaintance  with  God. 

It  is  the  ChriPfiap'.s  c'lit)^  in  everything  to  pray  ;^ 
snd  holinefs  lies  at  the  bottom  of  thi'^  duty.  If  i-i  ev- 
ery thing  I  commit  myfelf  to  God,  I.  fhall  be  fure  to 
keep  his  way,  or  my  prayer  will  upbraid  me.  This 
keeps  me  from  tempting  him,  and  makes  me  careful 
?o  find  a  clear  call  in  all  I  undtertake;  knowing  thaf  if 
1  20  only  where  I  am  fcnt^  the  Angel  of  Ids  prefence 
•wiil  go  before  me,  and  my  way  Vv-ill  he  cleared  of  temp-.. 
tatie^ir,  and  mifchiefs.  When  our  call  is  clear,  our 
-^vav  is  fate.  Befides,the  pra6lice  of  this  leads  me  into 
2r:u'ch  acquaintance  with  God.  My  very  praying,  is 
2in  acquainting  myfelf  with  him  :  and  it  in  every  ihii.g 
1  pray,  I  Tnati  in  every  thing  give  thanks  ;  and  this- 
brine-s  me  into  fiill  more  acqiiaintance  with  him.  By 
thefe^ means  my  life  will  be  fiUed  up  with  a  going  to^ 
's.xi^  returning  from  God. 

The  real  Chrif,lan  loves  foUtude, 

Solitude  is  no  burden  to  n  real  Chriftian.      He   iS:. 
leaft  alone,  when  alone.     His  folitude  is  asbufy  and 
laborious  as  any  part  of  hi;,  life.       It  is  impofilble  to. 
bereligious  indeed,   and  not  in  fc^me  meafure  to  Icve 
flpude  ;  for  all  the  duties  of  religion  cannot  be  per- 
formed in  public.   It  is  alfo  as  noble  as  it  is  ne^cefl'ary, 
10  love  to  converfe  with  our  own  thoughts.  Thei;„^/V, 
ij|ind  does  net  more  naturally  love  company,  than  the, 
*V'[;/«^ mind, frequent  retirement.     Such  perfons  have 
•work  to  do,    and  meat  to  eat,    that  the  world    knows, 
not  of.     Their  pleafurcs  are   fecret,  and  their   chief, 
delight  is  between  God  and  thernfclves. 

There  is  more  nscejfary  to  render  us  truly  religious'  than 
a  mere  external  Revelation  of  truth. 
True  religion  is  heaven-born.      Not  only  the   out- 
ward.R.eveiation  is  necelfary,  but  alfo  an  inward,  fe- 
cret and  divine  imprcffion.      The  favoring  of  divine. 

things, 


Lady  IElizabeth  Brooke.  145 


preiiion,  men  are  not  aoie  to  perceive  tne  tnings  or 
God.  There  muft  be  a  light  withia  us,  as  well  as 
without  us  ;  otherwife  the  gofpel  may  be  hid,  event 
where  it  fhines  :  fo  that  whoever  conclude  aright,  that 
they  are  under  the  power  of  religion,  mufl  have  ex- 
perienced fomething  fupernatural  ;  fomething  that  is 
the  work  of  God,  and  not  of  men  ;  fomething  above  all 
their  owri  povver,  and  the  povvcr  of  the  whole  world. 

Religion  in  its  pra^ice  is  highly  rational, 

R.eHgion  makes  a  man  live  up  to  his  Reafon.  So 
far  as  a  man  is  a  Chriftian,  fo  far  is  Reafon  exalted, 
fits  on  the  throne,  and  commands  all  the  powers  of 
the  foul.  Religion  enlightens  and  ftrengthcns  Reafcii, 
and  Reafon  helps  and  ferves  Religion.  Reafon  is  in- 
feparable  frcm  the  foul  (we  lliall  be  all  raional  in 
heaven.) 

The  whole  practice  of  godlinefs,  both  in  divine  and 
moral  duties,  and  the  frame  of  a  ChrilHan's  fpirit,  are 
but  the  rational  confequences  of  two  great  principles, 
which  the  Chriftian  hides  and  embraces  in  his  heart  ; 
namely,  that  there,  is  a  God,  and  that  the  fcripture  is 
his  word,.  The  inferences  from  thefe  two  truths,  and 
tlie  life  of  a  Chrillian,  are  the  fame. 

Rcligim  1(1  its  praciicCy  is  a  living  in,  and  ccnvctjituh'- 
■ivith  G:d. 

True  Religion  makes  a  man  not  only  live  above 
the  world,  and  in  converfe  with  his  own  reafon,  but 
alfo  to  live  out  of  himfelf  in  God,  conveviing  mucli 
with  him.  A  real  Chriftian  v.'ill  deny  himfelf  for 
God,  quit  all  felf-intereft,  and  re-lgn'to  him  in  ail 
points  of  duty  and  feryice.  The  glory  of  God  /s  hi 5 
end,  his  work,  his  direction.  He  takes  no  pleafur^ 
in  himfelf,  nor  in  any  thing,without  himfelf,  furth<..- 
N  2-  th^.a  ' 


146  Memoirs  o? 

than  he  fees  the  (lamp  of  God  upon  it.  He  'forgcf!? 
Mmfelf,  and  minds  nothing  but  the  will  of  God  :  he 
triumphs  in  nothing  more  than  in  his  own  emptinefs,. 
and  the  divine  all-iufHciency  and  fuhiefs.  This  is 
having  nothings  and  yet pojf effing  all  things.  This  is  the 
divine  life,  and  the  height  of  religion,  to  know  and 
perceive  that  not  only  as  to  our  natural  life,  we  de- 
pend on  Providence,  and  live,  and  move  in  God,  but 
that  alfo  as  to  our  Jplr'itual  life,  we  receive  all  out  of 
his  fulnefs,  and  are  acled  by  a  life  in  and  from  him. 
Of  this  I  defire  to  be  more  and  continually  fenfible. 

Religion. gives  us  a  rea-l  evjoyment  of  God. 

The  true  Chriilian  lives  above  himfelf,  not  only  in . 
a  way  of  iVif-denial,  but  in  the  very  enjoyment  of 
God.  His  fellowfhip  is  with  the  Father,  and  with 
the  Son.  He  every  where,  and  in  every  thing,  feeks 
ivM  God.  In  ordinances,  duties  and  providences,. 
lA  nether  profperous  or  adverfe,  nothing  pleafes,  un- 
lefs  Godbe  found  in  them,  or  admitted  into  them. 
That  is  to  him  an  ordinance  indeed,  in  which  he  meets 
-'Vith  God.  That  is  a  merciful  providence  indeed,  in 
".vhich  there  apoears  much  of  the  finger  of  God.  God 
5s  nearer  to  tile  true  Chrifcian  than  he  is  to  others  : 
for  there  is  an  inward  feeling,  an  intelledual  touch, 
v.hich  carnal  men  have  not.  And  herein  lies  the  very 
foul  and  quintelTence  of  religion,  that  it  unites  ns  in  a 
r.earnefs  to  God,  and  gives  us  already  to  enjoy  him. 

.Religion,  givfi  a  ??ian  power  overhimfef,  who  by  nature 
is  his  own  worjl  enemy. 

True  religion  gives  a  man  a  great  com.mand,  and 
Te(!ores  him  to  a  juft  power  and  dominion,  over  him-> 
felf,*by  Ribduing  in  him  his  own  will  and  paiTions, 
Man  in  his  di^praved  condition,  is  himfeii  his  greateft 
enemy  :  for  the  devil  and  the  world  prevail  againft 
him,  not  by  their  own  Rrength,  but  by  the  treachery 

and 


L'ady  Elizabeth  Brooke.  147 

and  baferrers  of  his  own  heart.  The  deRmaion  of 
fouls  is  of  themfelves.  Ignorance  and  neglect  of  God 
take  away  fear  :  and  there  is  in  men  fuch  an  inclina- 
tion to  fin,  as  leads  them  to  adeiightfui  entertainment 
of  temptations :  To  that  they  are  not  fo  much  the  devil 
and  the  vvcrld  without,  as' the  devil  and  the  world 
vr-ithin  ;  not  the  baits  of  honor,  wealth  and  pleafure 
from  without,  but  ambition,  covetoufnefs  and  fenfu- 
ality  within,  wliich  prevail  upon  men.  Wherefore 
to  purified  fouls,  znd  mortified  minds,  many  tempta- 
tions in  a  manner  ceafe  to  be  temiptairons. 

Self-denial  Pears  a  great  part  in  the  praciice  cf  trui 
Religion. 

The  great  property  of  true  religion  is  tjiat  it  teach- 
es/f/f-^^«/e/ ;  which  felf-deniai  is  indeed  the  foun- 
dation of  religion,  and  the  fum  of  all  the  precepts  of 
the  gofpel.  Every  true  Clirlfcian  fincereJy,  though 
imperfe6lly,  denies  himfelf,  and  makes  a  free-will  of- 
fering of  himfelf  to  God,  in  leilgning  himfelf  to  his 
will.  Indeed  we  can  never  have  peace  in  profperity 
inilefs  our  will  as  to  a6lion  is  fwaliowed  up  in  the 
divine  will:  nor  can  we  have  cootentment  in  adverfi- 
ty,  unlefs  our  will  be  complying  with  Gx)d's  will. 
This  is  the  great  victory,  to  conquer  ourfelves  :  and 
to  him  who  thus  overcomes^  is  thepromife  g-vcn,  of  fit- 
ting with  ChriJ}  on  his.  ih?'une. 

JVe  glorify  God,  not   by  giving  to  him^  hut  by  receiving 
from  him, 

I  know  I  can  add  nothing  to  God's  glory.  I  glo- 
rify him  by  receiving  from  him  the  imprcfs  of  his 
glory  upon  me,  rather  than  by  communicating  any 
glory  to  him.  When  the  frame  of  my  mind  and  lite 
is  according  to  his  prefcription,  when  I  am  moit  like 
to  him,  when  a  fpirit  of  love  and  holinefs  runs  through 
ail  my  adtions,  then  L  glorify  hinu      God   feeks   his 

own 


148  Memoirs  o^^ 

own  glory  by  communicating  grace  and  happinefs  io 
me  ;  and  I  glorify  him  by  deliring  and  endeavoring 
to  partake  of  his  grace  and  happinefs. 

God's  Behigy  Providence  and  Covenant y  moji  agreeahU, 
The  notion  of  God  is  moft  agreeable  to  my  mind. 
I  fliould  not  know  how  to  live  in  the  world,  if  there 
were  not  a  God  to  govern  it.  His  Being  delights  me, , 
his  Providence  fupports  me,  his  Covenant  and  Love 
rejoice  me.  Without  thefe,  I  fhould  not  value  my 
ov/n  being  and  life= 

Peace  and  hope  generally  attend  Jincerity., 
-I  have  peace,  though  not  always  great  afiurance, 
?Vly  hopes  are  fuch  as  keep  me  in  the  way  that  leads 
to  heaven.  The  word  of  God  delights  me  ;  the  com- 
mands of  God  are  not  griev^oiis  to  me.  I  rejoice  i?i 
his  promifes,  and  his  ordinances  are  to  me  a  fpiritual 
fea(t.  The  knowledge  I  have  of  God,  the  notice  I 
take  of  his  providence,  and  the  meditation  of  his  word, 
afford  me  no  little  pleafure. 

The  'method  of  attaining  great  fpiritual  comfort. 
Could  I  exercife  grace  with  greater  ftrength,  and 
more  fully  mortify  fin  ;  <cDuId  1  believe  more  ftead- 
faftly,  pray  more  fervently-,  w^alk  more  evenly,  and 
bemore  fpiritual,  heavenly  and  hum.ble,  I  (hould  have 
more  itrong  and  abiding  comforts.-  But  above  all,  my 
faith  is  weak  :  and  there  is  nothing  to  which  I  am 
more  liable  thanto  drftrull:  God,  to  «be  jealous  of  hiiT>, 
and  not  to  think  myfelffecure  without  fuch  demon- 
ilTations  of  his  loveas  are  not  to  be  enjoyed  here,  and 
which  would  take  away  faith,and  turn  all  into  vifion. 

A  good  name  is  a  grcqt  hleffmgy  which  God  only  can  pre- 
ferije  to  us. 
A  good  name  ought  to  be  valued.    It  is  better  than 
precious  oiatmeat.     It  is  a  real,  and  a  promifed  bleX- 


Lady  Elizabeth  Brooke,  14^ 

ing.  It  is  to  be  valued  next  to  life,  if  it  is  not  equal 
to  it.  It  is  an  honor  to  God,  and  our  profeflion.  It 
even  makes  us  capable  of  doing  good  ;  it  gives  ftrength 
to  our  inilrutlions  and  reproofs,  and  without  it,  we 
become  ufelefs  in  the  world.  But  it  is  hard  to  keep  a 
good  name.  It  requires  much  innocence,  prudence 
and  watchfulnefs  :  and  when  all  is  done^  unlefs  God 
reftrains  the  fpirits  of  men,  every  lying  tongue,  or  ma- 
licious, or  unkind  fpirit  may  blot  our  name.  It  i^s  hard 
to  preferve  a  good  name,  confidering  our  own  liable- 
nefs  to  mifcarriages,  and  the  enmity  of  the  v/orld  a- 
gainil  holincfs. 

God  mujTnot  cnly  he  known ^  hut  ackmvjledged. 

God  may  in  fome  fort  be  known,  and  not  acknow- 
ledged. Knowledge  is  rational ;  acknowledgment  is 
^ratikaL  Aekxowledgfncnt  of  God  is  fruit  and  fub- 
f^ancc  ;  knowledge  is  but  leaves  and  fijadows.  To 
acknowledge  God  is  to  converfe  with  him,  to  have  a 
lively  fenfe  of  his  being,  of  his  all-governing  provi- 
dence, and  of  his  prefence  everywhere.  It  is  to  con- 
fider  his  majefty,  greatnefs,  and  glory  w.ith  due  reve- 
rence, his  v/ifdom  with  efteem  and  admiration,  his 
power  v/ith  fear,  truft,  pleafure,  hope,  and  his  holi- 
nefs  with  deep  refle61ion  on  our  own  finfu'-nefs,  and 
with,  defire  to  imitate  fuch  an  excellent  pattern. 

Death  TS  a  Chrljlians  pajf'age  to  hea'ven. 

To  confider  death  as  a  paffage  to -heaven,  and  the 
way  to  the  Father,  v/ill  help  a  CbriRian  cheerfully  to 
pafs  through  the  world,  and  willingly  to  leave  it. 

Necfffity  of  the  ajfijlance  cf  the  holy  Ghojl. 

I  fmd  it   hard  to  preferve  entire  my   communion 
with  the  holy  Spirit,   though  I  perceive  my    need   of 
ijjm  is  very  great.       He  is  the  original  and  principle 
of  all  fpiritual  life  and  motion  ;  and  without  his  con- 
tinual . 


1^& 


Memoirs  of 


tinual  influence,  T  am  as  a  disjointed,  weak  membeiv 
which  hath  neither  confillcncy  nor  uniformity  in  its- 
motions  or  adions. 

Co?ifcience  tnuft  not  he  offended  by  allciving  anyfm. 

I  find  it  better  to  offend  a  world  of  men,  than  my" 
own  ccnfcience.  Confcience  is  quickly  offended,  but 
FiOt  fo  foon  pacified.  Confcience  hath  a  good  merno^ 
rv,  and  will  keep  the  remembrance  of  offences  a  long 
lime,  and  give  many  a  fecret  wound,  m.ake  faith  and 
confidence  in  God  weak,  hinder  the  vigor  of  prayer, 
and  freedom  in  our  converfe  with  him. 

They  who  knozv  God's  Jaw,  andvjlll  coyifJer  and  refi-e£f^ 
will  dijcern  much  fin  in  themj  elves. 

If  we  are  not  fenfibie  of  fin  in  our  fouls,  it  pro- 
ceeds either  from  ignorance  af  what  is  fin,  or  from 
jiot  refledinsj  on  ourfelves.  They  who  know  the 
flridtnefs  of  God's  law,  and  are  obfervers  of  them- 
felves,  will  find  many  working?  and  motions  of 
pride,  vain-glory,  love  of  the  world,  felfifiinefs,  and 
other  evil  affedions  ;  and  that  they  cannot  keep 
themfelves  pure  without  a  contiriual  care  of  their 
hearts. 

It  is  the  f pi  ritual  part  of  religion  that  is  hard  j 
tlie  outward  part  is  eafy. 

The  remainder  offn  within  us  is  very  active. 

Sin  within  always  works,  and  labors  to  bring  fortli 
the  deeds  of  the  flefli.  It  is  always  either  inclining 
to  evil,  or  hindering  from  good,  or  disframing  the 
foul,  and  making  it  lefs  meet  for  converfe  with  God. 
It  deceives,  feduces,  tempts, and  in  fome  meafurecor- 
nipts  and  pollutes  all  that  we  perform  to  God,  or  do 

for  hi nu 

Kin^ 


Lady  Elizabeth  Brooke.  151 

Sin  cannot  he  mortified  by  our  ownftrength. 

I  find  an  aptnefs,  when  fin  afflids  me,  prefently  t« 
promife  m)  felf  and  God,  that  I  will  do  fo  no  more, 
and  refolve  by  prayer  and  watchfulnefs  to  prevent  it. 
And  this  will  do  fomething  for  a  feafon,  till  my  heat 
abates,  my  fenfe  of  fm  wears  off,  and  then  ray  morti- 
fication vanifhes  alfo.  Tlierefore  I  refolve  never  to 
think  of  mortifying  fin  by  my  own  ftrength,bijt  hum- 
bly to  look  up  to  God  for  the  help  of  his  holy  Spirit. 

There  arijcs  great  pleafure  from  rejijling  tempi Gticns. 

There  will  never  be  found  fo  much  fatisfaciion  in 
the  gratifying  a  temptation,  as  in  a  noble,  generous 
retufal  of  it.  The  m.ore  I  rcfiil,  the  more  1  find  of 
peace  :  and  the  denial  of  the  moft  pleafing  temptation 
brings  with  it  the  fvveeteft  joys. 

//  IS  better  to  prevent  Jiuy  than  to  admit,  and  mortify  it. 

If  fin  enters,  it  muft  be  diflodged  ;  and  it  is  ht  caf- 
ier  to  prevent  than  to  eje£l  it.  It  is  not  eafy  to  bring 
the  foul  back  again  into  the  itate  in  which  it  was  be- 
fore it  contracled  guilt. 


Anger  isfeldom  /* 


innocent. 


I  have  no  reafon  to  truft  my  anger.  It  is  not  fe 
juft  and  righteous  as  it  fometimcs  feems  to  be.  An- 
ger is  apt  to  blind  my  mind,  and  then  tyrannize  over 
it.  There  is  in  it  fomething  of  raj:;e  and  violence.  It 
ftirs  me  up  to  acl,  but  takes  away  my  rule  by  v.hich  I 
.fhould  ad.  I  find  an  apt  efs  ro  credit  my  palliori  ; 
and  that  foments  it  :  and  wnen  1  ?.-ii  under  the  pov.tr 
of  pallion,  I  have  caule  to  fufped  my  ov/n  apprehcn- 
fions  ;  for  paffion  is  blind,  and  c:nnot  judge.  It  is 
furioiis,  and  hath  no  leifure  to  debaie  and  confider.. 
■Giving  way  to  it,   makes  me  unfit  to  act   or   receive 

Ther^; 


4^2  Memoirs  op 

There  is  a  chain  rf  graces. 

It  is  mod  certain  there  is -a  chain  of  graces  infepar- 
r.bly  linked  together;  and  they  who  have  one,  have  all 
in  fome  good  meaiure.  They  Vv'ho  have  a  lively  hope, 
have  fervent  love  to  God  ;  and  they  who  love  God, 
love  their  neighbors ;  and  they  who  love  God  and  their 
jieighbors,  hate  fin  ;  and  they  who  hate  (in,  forrov/ 
for  it  ;  and  they  who  forrovv'  for  it,  will  avoid  the  oc- 
caflonsofit;  and  they  who  are  thus  wp.tchful,  will 
pray  fervently  ;  and  they  who  pray,  will  meditate  ; 
and  they  who  pray  and  meditate  at  home,  will  join  fe- 
rioufly  in  the  public  worihip  of  God.  Thus  graces 
are  combined,  and  holy  duties  connected  together,  and 
no  grace  is  found  alone.  It  is  not  with  graces,  as 
with  gift^,  where  to  one  is  given  this,  and  another  that. 


J'o  be  impartial  in  piety  and  mortiJicatiGn,  is  difkulf^ 

It  is  a  mod  difficult  thing  to  withdraw  th^  love  of 
the  foul  from  every  fin.  To  proceed  a  little  v/ay  in 
religion  is  not  hard,  but  it  is  really  fo,  to  go  to  the  ex- 
tent of  mortification  and  piety.  Some  mor«ility,  and 
an  outward  devotion  are  not  diflicult  to  fiefh  and 
blood,  neither  do  they  fliake  Satan's  kingdom,  nor  do 
they  trouble  the  moil  of  thofe  with  whom  wc  con- 
verfe.  But  when  we  come  once  to  engage  in  a  clofe 
walk  with  God,  and  to  live  by  rule  in  every  part  of 
lite,  rcfolving  fcrioufly  to  indulge  no  fm  whatever,  we 
pull  the  kingdom  of  darknefs  upon  cur  heads.  Then 
corruption  will  drive,  Satan  will  rage,  and  the  world 
Vv'ill  fcoit,  watch  for  our  halting,  aad  glory  in  our  mif- 
carriages  \  and  we  (hall  find  it  dillicult  to  run  againil 
the  CGurfeof  nature,  onpofe  Satan,  and  go  contrary  to 
men.  But  all  this  of  necefllty  mud  be  ;  for  any  fm 
■indulged  v»' ill  fcparate  us  from  Chrid. 


Lady  Elizabeth  Brooke.  is^ 

To  irufi  in  Gody  is  a  Chrljlian  s  necefjary  duty. 

I  find  trull ing  in  God  my  moft  neceflfary  duty, 
Tvly  condition  is  fuch  that  I  cannot  fee  before  me.  I 
know  not  what  a  day  may  bring  forth.  I  find  my- 
felf  weak  and  impotent,  unable  to  do  or  fiifter  as  I 
ought.  I  cannot  preferve  my  foul,  life  or  health,  or 
any  thing  dear  tome  ;  and  without  trufting  in  God, 
J  cannot  expect  God  fhould  fulfil  to  me  any  promife. 

Trujiing  in  God  produces  real  comfort, 

1  find  it  comfortable  to  truft  in  God.  It  raifes  my 
hope,  and  gives  me  prefent  reff,  and  holy  cojitent- 
ment.  Truiling  in  God,  like  many  other  duties,  \i 
my  work,  and  my  wages. 

To  trujl  in  God  is  one  of  our  moft  difficult  duties. 

I  find  it  difficult  to  trufl  in  God  at  all  times.  Wh^. 
providences  crofs  my  expe6lation,  they  difcou rage  mc, 
and  prove  a  temptation  through  my  vvcaknefs.  I 
liave  butfeeble  apprehenfions  of  the  power  and  good- 
nefs  of  God,  when  I  come  to  make  ufe  of  them  for 
my  particular  fecurity  and  benefit.  I  think  I  may 
iay  it  is  eafier  to  obey,  and  adl  for  God,  than  to  truil 
in  himl 

Faith  is  the  root  of  other  graces. 

Faith  is  the  principle  of  fpiritual  life  and  motion. 
Every  truly  good  work,  and  cxercife  of  grace,  takes 
its  rife,  and  derives  its  vigor  from  faith.  A  Chriitiau 
prays,  reads  and  meditates  ;  hears,  hopes,  loves  ;  is 
zealous  for  God,  and  does  good  to  others.  Why  ? 
Bccaufe  he  believes.  V/hence  fpring  repentance  and 
godly  forrow,  but  from  the  foul's  being  aded  by 
faith  ;  or  its  belief  of  the  finfulnefs  cf  fin,  its  oppo- 
fition  and  contradiiSlion  to  God,  the  hidi  obligations 
Ave  are  under  to  avoid   it,  the  mifery  \ve  incur   by 


1^4  Memoirs  op 

venturing  npon  it,  and  the  folly  and  madnefs  of  nun- 
ing  our  fouls  by  it  ? 

I  find  faith  mod  neccfTary,  and  that  I  cannot  be 
v/ithout  it.  Whither  can  I  go,  or  what  can  I  under- 
takct  where  faith  v/ill  not  bcnccelTary  r  If  I  pray,  or 
moditate,  they  will  be  Grange  exercifes,  if  faith  be 
•wanting.  If  I  read  or  hear  the  word,  it  will  not 
profit  ine,  unlefs  I  mi^  it  with  faith.  Would  1  hope 
in  any  promifc?  1  muil  call  lorth  my  faith.  Would  I 
be  heavejily-minded  ?  It  is  faith  nui.fl  raife  me  above 
the  world.  Would  I  be  zealous  for  God  ?  Zeal  will 
not  gather  heat,  unlcfs  faith  fan  the  iire.  Would  I 
liave  peace  and  joy  f  They  muit  be  had  by  believing. 
Nay,  I  can  do  nothing  in  my  more  ordinary  affairs 
v/ithout  faiih.  I  muft  know  and  believe  my  dcfign 
is  good,  and  centers  in  my  great  end,  the  glory  of 
(jod  ;  and  the  means  I  employ  muft  be  known  and 
believed  to  be  regular  and  holy  ;  or  I  dare  not  make 
lafe  of  them.  And  then  I  muft  be  able  to  caft  my 
care  upon  God,  and  to  commit  the  ifiue  and  event  to 
him  ;  orelfe  my  bufinefs  becomes  burdcnfome,  and 
I  have  no  reft. 

*T'he  Devil  Is  a  mighty ,  hut  not  an  Invhiclhle  enemy, 

I  have  a  powerful,  fubtil,  watchful  and  malicious 
enemy  to  encounter  ;  but  he  is  a  known  enemy,  for 
the  word  has  difcovcred  him,  and  his  power  is  limited. 
God  hath  promifed  mc  vi^lory  over  him  :  nay,  my 
Jx>rd  hath  already  conquered  him.  And  I  am  not 
alone  in  this  warfare  againft  Satan  :  there  is  a  wliole 
army  engaged  in  the  quarrel.  The  whole  church 
prays  and  fights  againft  him.  The  faints  collectively 
make  war  upon  him.  All  the  prayers  of  the  people 
of  God  go  up  to  heaven  for  my  aftiftan.ce,  fo  that  I 
have  help  againft  temptation  from  every  quarter.  All 
ftrike  this  dart  into  his  fide  :  Lordy  lead  us  not  Into 
temptation.     And  ^vc  all   fight  under  our  victorious 

C*»)tain 


f/ADY  Elizabeth  Brooke.  155 

Captain,  Chrift  Jefus.  The  honor  of  God,  and  oi 
Chrilt  my  Head,  is  bound  up  in  my  fafety,  and  there- 
fore I  Ihall  conquer  ;  and  ihe  very  temptations  of 
Satan  (Irall  turn  to  my  good.  All  ihefe  coriiidcrations 
alford  me  cncou-ragement. 

The  things  which  the  holy  GhoJ}  teaches. 

The  holy  Spirit  teaches  every  gracious  foul  to  re- 
gard the  immoiial  fpirit  above  the  body,  to  obey  God 
rather  tlian  man,  and  to  make  provifi-on  for  eternitv/ 
rather  than  time.  And  all  the  circumrpe6l  walk  or" 
faints,  their  redeeming  their  time,  their  daily  devotion, 
their  felf-denial, their  confcicntious carriage, and  what- 
ever provokes  profane  mouths  to  reproach  them,  are 
but  the  necelfary  eiTccls  of  thefe  three  principles  of 
■vvifdom.  And  all  the  vvickednefs  of  ungodly  meu 
proceeds  from  the  want  of  them. 

Holinefs  Is  a  privilege. 

I  look  upon  holinefs  as  none  of  theleaft  of  a  Chrif- 
tian's  privileges.  We  are  to  confider  it  not  more 
necelfary  than  glorious  ;  not  more  our  duty  than  our 
ornament.  Acceptance  with  God  is  a  privilege  :  and 
is  likenefs  to  him  inferior  to  it  ?  Is  freedom  from 
Satan's  malice  a  privilege,  and  is  nor  the  deilruclion 
of  his  image  in  us  a  privilege  r  From  carnal  to  bo- 
come  fpiritual,  from  earihly  to  be  made  heavenly, 
from  pride  to  be  changed  into  humility,  from  peeviOi 
to  become  kind,  and  from  fmners  to  be  converted  in- 
to faints  \  are  not  thefe  things  piivileges  ? 

Let  this  truth  then  be  entertained  ^'that  holinefs  is 
a  privilege.     And  when  we  fee  the  beauty  of  holinefs,.. 
and  defire  itbecaufe'we  love  and  eileem    it,  then  will 
God  open  the  treafures  of  his  grace,    and  give   us  a* 
more  plentiful  efFufioii  of  hiii  Spirit. 

rho- 


156     .  iViEMO'JR??  0^ 

The  necejjiiy  of  havliig  forne  fiated  rulcs^  arid  living  fy 
them. 

In  order  to  Oiake  off  the  tjraivn'cal  government  of 
paffion,  ambition  and  felf-will,  and  that  we  *may  not 
be  hurried  'i>^^  every  motion  of  our  mind,  it  is  necef- 
fary  to  have  fome  fixed  and  ftated  rules  of  good  and 
evil  ;  without  which  we  {liail  never  live  as  becomes 
reafonable  creatures.  Such  is  our  ignorance,  that 
tve  (hail  not  know  how  to  govern  ourfelves,  unlefs  we 
upply  to  fome  rule  for  information  ;  and  fo  many  and 
great  are  our  temptations,  that  they  will  prevail,  im- 
\th  we  keep  fome  fixed  rule  for  our  action;^.  He 
"who  a^ls  always  according  to  prefent  thoughts  and 
inclinations  will  never  be  able  to  refill:  temptations  to 
iin.  Such  alio  are  our  incogitancy  and  forgetfulnefs, 
that  it  is  needful  to  fix  fome  rules  for  our  actions,  to 
•y/hich  we  bind  ourfelves  ;  for  thefe  will  alarm  and 
enlighten  confcience  \  and  confcience  is  the  fureft 
Jielp  to  memory. 

Our  inconftancy  to  ourfelves  makes  it  needful  ;  that 
fo  every  thought,  every  company,  every  accident  o£ 
life,  may  not  alter  our  minds  and  a6lions. 

When  zve  converfe  with  Gsd  in  holy  ordinances. 

The  v/ay  and  means  by  which  God  communicates^ 
lumfelf  are  the  public  ordinances,  and  the  private  du- 
ties of  religion.  Thefe  are  like  the  tabernacle  and 
ark  of  old.  As  they  were  fomctimes  filled  and  cover- 
ed with  the  cloud,  fo  thefe  with  fpiritual  and  invifible 
glory.  But  a  bare  attendance  on  thefe  is  not  our 
communion  v/ith  God.  This  confifts  in  having  our 
fouls  fuitably  affeded  with  the  matter  of  them.  When 
the  heart  is  hot,  the  alfeclions  moving,  and  grace  ex- 
ercifed  ;  vyhen  a  threatening  awes  us,  a  command  de« 
lights  us,  and  a  promife  enters  the  ear  like  good  news 
in  a  perilous  time  ;  when  a  difcourfe  of  Chrifl;  in- 
fiame^  the  foul  with  bve  and  defire  i  when  a  difcourfs. 

of 


Lady  Elizabeth  Erooke.  157 

*f  heaven  raifes  the  mind  above  the  world  ;  when 
truths  are  accompanied  with  light  and  love,  fo  that 
the  foul  cleaves  to  them,  and  hangs  upon  them  ;  this 
is  communion  with  God  ;  and  then  are  ordinances 
and  duties  filled  with  the  holy  Spirit. 

To  govern  the  tongue  is  one  of  the  dif^cidt  parttof  rc-^ 
ligion. 

It  is  hard  to  govern  the  tongue  aright.  Much  of 
mortification  lies  in  reftraining  it  ;  much  pofitive 
fandiiication  in  the  right  life  of  it.  It  requires  much 
knovv'ledge,  wifdom,  faith fiilnefs,  courage,  watch- 
fulnefs,  deliberation,  examination  of  ourfelves,much 
prayer,  yea,  much  and  iirong  grace,  to  govern  it  well.. 
The  right  government  ot  it  is  alfo  a  glorious  part 
of  our  Chriltian  pVofefTion,  and  a  power!  id  commen- 
dation of  it  10  others. 

He 'who  governs  his  tongue  aright j  is  a -perfect  man. 

The  due  government  of  the  tongue'  implies  and 
fuppofes  whatever  elfe  goes  to  the  making  up  of  e- 
vangelical  perfedion.  Where  the  tongue  is  gov- 
erned, the  whole  life  alfo  is  ordered  by  rule  :  and  it 
will  be  found  that  whoever  wants  grace,  fails  much 
in  this  particular,  anddifcovers  the  want  of  it,  either 
by  his  fpeech,  or  by  his  iilence  ;  for  the  fame  light 
which  directs  the  government  of  the  tongue,  ih.e  fame 
arguments  that  move  to  it,  and  the  fame  power  that 
adills  it,  will  enlighten  us  to  fee  other  duties,  move 
us  ilrongly  to  undertake  them,  and  as  eftectually  help 
Bs  to  perform^  them. 

Meekr.efs  produces  peace  and  joy. 

The  exercife   of  that  meeknefs  which  is  a  fuper- 
natural  grace,  a  dirpofiti^^n    in   rhe  foul    wrought  by 
the  holy  Ghoit,  which  aims  at   the  glory  '^i  God  and 
o  3  the 


15^  Memoirs  of 

the  honor  of  religion,  renders  the  confcience  ferensr 
and  joyful.  When  I  can  refiecl  on  pallions  reltrain- 
cd,  injuries  forgiven,  an  enemy  loved,  contentment  in 
every  condition,  ready  fubmilFionto  every  providence, 
and  much  felf-denial  that  God  may  be  pleafed,  how 
pleafant  is  the  review  of  confcience  ! 

Meeknefs  gives  us  thepcjjejjlon  of  ourf elves, 

Meeknefs  gives  us  the  entire  poiTeflion  of  ourfelves, 
and  ufe  of  our  facuhies.  But  anger  and  impatience 
prevent  the  enjoyment  of  ourfclves,  and  our  application 
to  any  affair  that  lies  before  us,  choking  our  way  with 
thorns,  and  making  every  thing  tedious  and  trouble- 
fome  to  us. 


an. 


The  expe^iailm  of  death  is  prcfitahle  to  a  Chrifti, 

The  ferious  expectation  of  death  frees  us  from  the 
afflicting,  difcompofing  apprehenfions  of  it.  It  is 
of  great  fervice  to  the  Chriftian.  It  takes  off  the 
foul  from  carnal  pleafures,  covetous  de fires  and  am- 
bitious purfuits,  and  aiMs  patience  and  contentment. 
Tt  helps  the  ChriTiian  to  redeem  his  time,  prompts 
him  to  fettle  theaitairsof  his  foul,  to  put  his  heart 
and  houfe  in  order,  and  to  leave  nothing  to  be  done 
to-morrow,  that  may  be  done  to  day.  It  excites  to 
frequent  examination,  quickens  repentance,  and  fuf- 
fers  him  not  to  -continue  in  fm.  It  aflifts  fervency  ia 
prayer,  as  it  drives  away  worldly  cares,  and  helps  a- 
.^^ainft  diliraaions  ;  for  death  is  a  folemn  thing,  the 
thoughts  of  it  breed  a  pafiion  in  the  mind  ;  and  all 
foft  padions  cherifli  devotion.  The  expedation  of 
death  fweetens  all  labor  and  duty,  becaufe  ot  the  ever- 
iafting  reft  to  which  death  leads  us. 

It  m.oves  us  to  pray  for  others,  counfel  them,  and 
and  du  what  we  can  for  them.      Thus  death  is  curs. 

The 


Lady  Elizabeth  Brooke.  15^' 

The  government  of  our  thoughts  is  necejfary. 

It  is  no  little  fclf-denial  to  manage  our  thoughts 
ftriclly  :  yet  it  is  the  mofl  reafonable  part  of  religon,- 
not  properly  the  height  of  piety,  but  its  foundation, 
without  -which  it  cannot  (land.  He  who  can  blulli 
at  his  thoughts,  and  endeavors  to  fupprefs  them,  who 
dares  not  entertain  the  leall:  fin,  no,  not  fo  much  as  in 
his  imagination,  looking  upon  God  and  confcienceas 
more  than  a  thoufandwitneiles  ;  this  man  is  religious 
indeed.  tf 

The  end  of  our  anions  mvjl  he  good. 

Great  Care  mufl;  be  had  concerning  the  end  of  our 
actions;  for  this,  like  the  altar,  fandifics  the  gift. 
A  man's  end  has  a  mighty  influence  on  him.  As  is 
the  end,  fuch  is  the  man.  He  v/hofe  end  is  worldly, 
is  himfelf  earthly  :  but  if  God  be  a  man's  end,  it 
makes  him  godlike, 

JVe  muft  beware  of  fpiritual floth. 

Spiritual  floth  leads  to  fpiritual  poverty.  To  have 
raifed  affeflions  in  holy  duties  requires  much  force, 
to  which  nature  is  averfe.  Corrupt  nature  does  not 
always  difcover  its  oppofition  to  that  which  is  good 
by  paflionatecontradidion,  but  oftentimes  loofuccefs- 
fully,  by  floth  and  iluggifhnefs. 

DetraSlion  muft  he  avoided. 

We  are  naturally  prone  to  fpeak  evil  of  others  with 
delight,  and  to  aggravate'their  faults.  This  fin  per- 
fjfted  in  will  fhut  us  out  of  heaven  as  really  as  mur- 
der or  theft  :  and  there  is  a  fecret  plague  attending' it 
in  this  life  ;  for  the  way  of  divine  Providence  is  fre- 
<iuently  retalia-tion. 

Divine 


i6o  Memoirs-oi^ 

Divine  iiliiminatiQn  neceffary  to  dijcern  the  preci^uftiefi 
of  the  prorniJeSo 

The  promifes,  which  are  the  difplay  of  the  cove- 
nant of  grace,  are  mod  precious  in  their  matter,  and> 
jTJoft  neceiTary  a,nd  ufeful  to  the  fpiritual  life  of  the 
Chriilian.  They  help  and  fupport,  when  all  other 
things  fail.  The  fatisfaction  they  yield  is  a  real  plea- 
fiire  ;  but  yet  their  glory  and  excellence  are  not  to  be 
feen,  till  God  opens  the  eyes  of  the  Chrillian,  and 
gives  him  a  new  lit_;ht.  There  is  a  veil  upon  the  pro- 
mifes,  or  rather  a  film  upon  the  eye  of  the  foul  ;  and 
till  that  is  removed,  the  promifesare  dark  ;  they  have 
no  form  nor  comdinefs  in  therii.  They  are  great  and 
precious  In  themfelves  ;  yet  they  cannot  be  fo  to  us, 
unlefs  God  and  the  promife  come  in  together.  The 
Spirit  mull  move  upon  the  fa-ie  of  the  waters,  before 
they  become  refrelhing  ilreams  to  make  glad  the  heart. 
The  Chriflian's  own  arm  will  not  reach  comfort 
from  them  :  for  this,  God  muft  be  fought,  and  the 
promife  mull:  be  cur  meditation. 

The  Holy  Ghojl  proceeds  in  his  cpei-ationf gradually. 

The  Spirit  of  God  operates  gradually.  He  teach- 
es  iirit  one  truth,  and  then  another.  He  lays  a  found- 
ation in  the  heart  for  the  whole  of  religion,  and  ihea 
draws  us  on  gradually  to  more  and  more  of  it. 


Rules  for  Practice. 

I.  Let  love  and  charity  be  univerfal  ;  for  no  pre- 
tence whatever,  no,  not  of  religion  and  zeul  ior  God, 
can  jufiify  your  not  loving  any  perfon  in  the  world. 
Treat  all  men  with  kindnefs,  and  with  them  v,^ejl. 
Do  them  good  according  to  their  necelliiy,  and  your 
power  and  cpportuiiity.     It  perfons   be  above  ycu, 

exprefs 


Ladv  Elizabeth  Brooke,  iSi 

exprefs  your  love  by  prying  them  the  honor  their 
place  and  authority  call  ior.  It  they  be  in  worldly 
rerpe61:s  beneath  you,  manifefi:  your  love  by  kindnefs^ 
affability,  and  granting  them  an  eafy  accefs  to  you. 
If  they  excel  in  natural  or  acquired  endowments  of 
mind,  exprefs  your  love  by  a  due  eitefm.  If  they  be 
rather  wanting  than  excelling,  (how  your  love  by 
pitying  them,  and  defpife  not  their  weaknefs.  If  any 
be  in  mifery,  compaffionate  them,  pray  for  them,, 
comfort  them  with  your  prefence  if  you  can  reach 
them,  and  relieve  them  according  to  your  power.  If 
any  be  defamed,  fliow  your  love  by  flopping  and  re- 
buking the  defamation. 

2.  Be  careful  net  to  harbor  an  evil  afteclion  in  your 
heart  againft  any  perlbn  whatever  ;  for  though  you 
are  farlt'rom  intending  any  aclual  mifchief,  yet  you 
tempt  God  to  let  loofe  your  corruption,  and  his  provi- 
dence to  permit  an  opportunity,  and  fo,  ere  you  are 
aware,  you  may  be  drav,'n  to  an  aft  you  never  before 
thought  of.  Befides,  by  an  evil  afreclion  harbored 
in  your  mind,  you  will  prevent  the  bleffed  illapfes  of 
the  Spirit  of  God,  and  open  a  wide  door  for  the  en-' 
trance  of  the  devil  into  your  foul.  And  indeed  aa 
unkind  difpoiition  towards  any  rnan  is  fo  much  akin. 
to  Satan,  that  if  you  admit  the  one,  you  cannot  ex- 
elude  the  other. 

3.  Defpife  none  ;  for  love  nev?r  rides  in  triumph 
over  inferiors. 

4.  Look  upon  all  unavoidable  temptations  as  op- 
portunities for  a  high  exercife  of  grace.  Are  you  in- 
jured r  Be  forry  for  him  who  has  done  the  wrong;, 
and  blefsGod  for  the  opportunity  of  iliewing  yourfelt 
a  Chriflian  by  patient  bearing,  forgiving,  doing  good 
againft  evil,  treating  your  adverfary  with  mecknefs^ 
and  breaking  his  heart  with  love.  Every  provocation 
is  a  price  in  your  hand.     Get  a  heart  to  improve  it. 

5.  Put  a  due  value  irpon  your  name  and  reputation  ; 
but  be  not  over  folicitous  about  it  ;  for  that  difcovers 
foms  uiimortified  lull  at  the  bottom.        6..  Purfue 


V^2  Memoirs  of 

6.  Purfiie  piety  as  an  imitation  of  God  ;  and  the« 
fo  great  a  plcafiire  will  refalt  from  it,  that  neither 
men  nor  devils  fhall  be  able  to  make  you  queflion  l^is 
"Being  and  attributes.  This  notion  will  raife  an  ef- 
teen-rof  piety.,  will  render  it  lovely,  make -the  duties 
of  religion  more  eafy,  and  gradually  Vv'ear  out  the  re- 
mains of  unbelief,  and  unkind  jealoufy  of  God. 

7.  Let  humility  be  the  conftant  covering  of  yowr 
foul,  and  let  repentance  follow  ail  your  performances. 
This  will  demonllrate  that  your  religion  is  inward  ; 
fcr  if  religion  enter  deep  into  the  heart,  it  will  always 
find  work  fcr  repentance,  while  we  are  in  a  ftate  of 
imperfedion. 

8.  Love  nothing  above  God  andChrift  :  for  to  love 
any  thing  more  than  God  or  Chrift  is  the  way  either 
never  to  enjoy  it,  or  foon  to  be  deprived  of  it,  or  tc 
find  yourfeif  deceived  in  it. 

9.  Do  nothing  upon  which  you  dare  not  afic  God's 
bleffing. 

10.  Edeemtlme  asyourmoft  precious  talent,  which 
when  you  bedow  on  any,  you  give    them    more   than 
you  can  underftand.     A  joint  affiftance  of  men   and' 
smgels  cannot  reltore  it  to  you  again. 

11.  Never  fpeak  of  religion  for  the  fake  of  dif- 
courfe'and  entertainment,  but  for  the  purpofe  of  piety. 

12.  On  the  Lord's  day,  confider  in  private  the  love 
of  God,  in  the  feveral  infiiances  of  it,  to  yourfelf  and 
the  world,  in  creation  and  redemption,  the  promifes 
of  eternal  life,  the  care  of  his  Providence,  his  mercies 
to  you,  your  friends  and  family  ;  and  ftay  upon  thefe 
confiderations,  till  your  heart  be  lifted  up  in  hispralfe, 
and  you  can  fay  with  David,  **  Now  will  I  goto  God 
my  exceeding  joy."  Confider-alfo  your  mifcarriages 
in  the  week  pail,  and  induifrioufly  endeavor  to  pre- 
vent them  in  the  week  to  come. 

13.  Ba  diligent  in-yoar  particular  calling,  in  obe- 
dience to  God's  command  :  for  the  fame  God  who 
faid,  Be  fervent  in  prayer,  halh  alfo  faid.  Be  not  lloik» 

f ul  - 


Lady  Elizabeth  Brooke.  163 

-fill  inbuiinefs.  That  therefore  which  puts  a  gprd  man 
aipon  praying  in  his  clofet,  calls  hinri  out  again  ;  even 
fubmiinon  to  God,  the  great  Mafter  of  the  world, 
by  whom  we  are  placed  in  our  prefect  llations. 

14  Carefully  avoid  all  thofe  fins  to  which  your 
calling  and  diligence  in  ir,  expofes  you. 

15.  Never  let  the^  infirmity  of  a  brother  be  your 
recreation.  Let  not  that  which  grieves  God,  make 
you  merry.  Let  not  that  be  your  fport  which  is  heav- 
en's forrow  ;  for  fo  is  every  thing  evil. 

16.  Let  the  uie  of  retrefhments  make  you  com- 
pafiionate  to  the  poor  who  want  them.  This  will  be 
an  evidence  that  they  are  fan^lifitd  to  you. 

17.  Cenfure  not  any  m.an's  acS^ions  which  cortra- 
dlcf  not  a  plain  rule,  and  in  .which  there  is  the  ufe  of 
prudence  ;  becaufe  much  of  prudence  depends  on  cir- 
cumftances  of  which  you  are  ignorant.  God  hath 
made  yoa  a  feoffee  in  truftof  your  neighbor's  name  ; 
and  it  is  a  greatnefs  of  mind  not  to  fjpeak  evil  of 
others. 

Before  a  brother's  face,  flatter  not.  Behind  his 
back,  be  as  tender  of  his  reputation  as  of  his  life. 

18.  Inconverfe,  though  your  difcourfe  be  not  al- 
ways of  religion,  yet  make  it'  your  defign  thereby  to 
recommend  religion. 

19.  Let  not  fretting  anddifccntent  prey  upon  your 
titiic.  They  will  make  you  negledf  fome  prefent 
duty.  You  will  be  like  a  Ihip  tolled  upon  the  migh- 
ty waters,  which  is  moved,  but  brought  to  no  pla-ce. 

20.  Be  exa6l  in  your  actions,  becaufe  they  mufl: 
ftand  on  record  to  eternity. 

21.  That  you  may  think  of  God  aright,  you  mi'ift 
nbilracl:  from  your  prefent  temper,  and  your  own 
f:nfe  ;  for  experience  tells  us  that  if  a  man  be  con- 
vinced of  fm,  and  under  terrors,  all  tlie  art  of  m.an 
cannot  fatisfy  him,  that  God  will  pardon  fuch  a  fm- 
ner  as  he  is,  becaufe  he  judges  of  God  by  what  he 
feels.     On  the  otlier  haiid,  as  to  him  who  perceives 

not 


164  Memoirs  op 

not  the  bitternefs  of  fin,  all  arguments  can  fcarcely 
perfuade  him  that  (in  is  fo  great  an  evil  as  it  really  is, 
or  that  God  will  feverely  puniih  it,  becaufe  he  judges 
of  God  according  to  his  prefent  temper,  or  his  own 
i'enfe  of  things. 

22.  Give  God  the  honor  of  his  attributes  together. 
You  defire  his  mercy  :  let  him  have  aifo  the  glory  of 
his  wifdom  in  his  choofing  the  channel  in  which  his 
goodnefs  fhall  flow. 

23.  Never  be  a  fpenthrift  of  that  of  which  alone 
you  can  be  covetous  ;  that  is,  of  your  time. 

24.  Meditate  much  on  the  promifes  :  for  though 
meditation  can  add  nothing  to  the  promifes,  yet  it 
difcovers  the  beauty,  and  draws  forth  the  fweetnefs 
contained  in  them. 

25.  Apply  the  promifes  frequently,  though  you 
find  not  fuch  fenfible  effcds  either  of  grace  or  com- 
fort iiTuing  from  them  as  you  exped  or  defire.  The 
manner  of  fulfilling  them  may  be  various,  but  the 
performance  is  moll:  certain.  The  blefling  of  the 
promife  fometimes  defcendslike  rain  in  vifiblefliow^- 
ers,  producing  the  fenfible  effe(5ls  of  peace  and  joy  in 
the  foul  ;  and  fometimes  like  dew  which  diftils  in 
filence,  without  making  any  perceivable  alteration  in 
the  heart.  The  virtue  of  it  is  realj  but  hidden  and 
fee  ret. 


Miss  MARGARET 


Mixs  Margaret  Andrews.  165 


Miss  MARGARET  ANDREWS. 


OHE  was  the  only  child  of  Sir  Henry  An« 
(^iicws,  whofe  pious  inltructions,  and  thofe  ot  his 
lady,  feemed  early  attended  with  a  fpccial  blefling  t» 
their  bclovc  1  daughter.  Alrnofl:  as  foon  as  flie  iin- 
derrtood  anything,  Ihs exhibited  profiling  fymptoms 
of  piety,  in  the  deli^Iu  Ihc  took  in  prayer,  and  ling- 
ing  the  praifes  of  God  ;  in  her  meekncfs,  efpeciall/ 
in  receiving  and  regarding  reproof;  in  her  Uriel  re- 
gard to  jiiftice,  and  utter  deteltation  of  falfehood  ;  irt 
her  tenderncfs  and  pity  to  the  poor,  and  eagcrnefs  t(j 
l^elp  them.  At  the  age  of  fevcii  or  eight  years,  flie 
gave  more  fatisfa^lory  evidences  of  a  regenerate  Itate  ; 
appearing  very  foHcitoiis  refpt^ling  her  foul,  and  giv- 
ing her  chief  attention  to  the  things  pertaining  to  its 
falvaiion.  Her  plcafure  in  the  fcripiurcs  manifefl-cd 
itfelf  not  only  in  reading  them  with  great  attention, 
but  in  committing  whole  chapters  to  memory,  whicli 
ihe  did  with  great  facility.  She  had  a  high  refpecb 
for  good  minillers  ;  delighting  to  hear  them  pray  and 
preach,  and  afking  them  queltions  concerning  God 
•.a:id  her  duty.  .  Her  charity  alfo  was  proportionably 
improved.  She  was  remarkably  attentive  to  enquire 
out  the  neceflities  of  the  poor,  and  to  procure  relief 
for  their  diilreires,  as  they  were  made  known  to  her. 
She  early  manitefted  a  fuperiority  and  indifference 
to  thofe  objeds  which  attract  and  occupy  the  hearts  of 
nioft,  efpecially  the  young.  She  valued  the  world  and 
its  alhjrements  as  little  as  multitudes  do  their  fouls. 
Thefe  things  had  \Qxy  iitile  place  even  in  her  thoughts. 
?  Her 


166  Memoirs  of 

Her  mind  was  fo  converfant  with  heaven  and  its  glo- 
ries, that  llje  feeined  to  be  borne  to  a  great  diflancc 
from  fuch  earthly  vanities;  regarding  them  as. anwor- 
thy  her  efteem,  and  far  too  fmall  to  fatisfy  ihe  enlarg- 
ed defires  of  lier  foul.  Being  once  obferved  to  figb, 
and  fome  around  exprefiing  their  wonder  refped^ing 
the  caufe,  fince  fhe  feemed  to  poflefs  fuch  advantages 
for  being  happy  ;  Die  replied  :  **  I  want  nothing  in 
ibis  world.  I  do  not  flgh  for  that  ;  but  how  much 
better  is  heaven  than  all  this  1"  Then  ftarting  up  from 
her  feat,  and  fpreading  her  hands,  fhe  added,  **  O  there 
are  fuch  joys  in  heaven,  as  cannot  be  conceived."  She 
had  a  great  indifference  to  thofe gaieties  of  drcfs  which 
the  young,  efpecially  of  her  fex,  are  apt  to  admire  : 
for  though  llie  fubmitted  to  wear  clothes  fuited  to  her 
rank-  it  was  evident  they  were  the  obje£ls  neither  of 
her  defire  nor  delight.  When  her  parents  beflowed 
any  rarities  upon  her,  they  were  thankfully  acknow- 
ledged and  prized,  as  tokens  of  their  kindnefs,  but  lit- 
tle noticed  on  any  other  account :  fo  that  when  fhe 
lliewed  her  clcfet  and  its  curiofilies,  to  gratify  her 
friends,  it  would  be  plainly  fetn  that  her  heart  wason 
very  different  things.  Before  the  age  of  twelve,  Die 
was  once  taken  by  fome  of  her  friends,  to  fee  a  play. 
As  on  her  return  (lie  made  no  comments,  fhe  was  afl<- 
ed,  how  die  liked  it.  Her  reply  was  ;  /*  1  like  it  fo, 
that  I  never  defire  to  fee  another."  Nor  did  fhe  ever 
vary  from  this  determination.  Not  that  fhe  wanted 
either  capacity  or  tafle  for  what  was  fprightly  and  hu- 
morous. But  her  mind  was  fo  much  occupied  by 
things  folid  and  ufeful,  and  fo  habitually  converfant 
with  heaven  and  its  objects,  that  while  the  moft  inno- 
cent recreations  had  few  charms  for  her,  thofe  that 
did  but  border  on  the  contrary,   were  abfolutely   dif- 

She  was  conftarxt  and  diligent  in  reading  books  of 
piety.  She  appointed  herfelf  a  daily  portion  of  the 
fcriptures,  which  file  read  v/ith   much   obferyation  -j 

allying 


Miss  Margaret  Andrews.  167 

ainfiug  of  others  an  explanation  of  fuch  parts  as  file' 
did  not  underiiand.  In  this  way,  The  loon  obtained  a 
Ihare  of  knowledge  which  enabled  her  to  inflriK^  moil 
■who  converled  with  her.  Reading  once  in  the  pfaUn?, 
fhe  was  much  affected  with  the  troribles  of  David,  and 
thence  took  occafion  to  difcourfe  with  her  maid  about 
the  afHidtions  of  life  in  general,  and  particularly,  her 
own.  The  fervant  obferving  \\\?i.Xjhe  could  have  In!: 
little  trouble,  fhe  replied,  *'  They  that  have  the  leafi: 
trouble,  have  a  great  deal  :  and  if  we  do  but  confidtr 
what  joys  there  are  in  heaven,  it  is  enough  to  make 
us  impatient  to  live  here." 

She  was  much  in  meditation ;  and  when  alone,  was 
fometimes  fo  much  abGorbedj  as  to  be  feen  v.'alking  with 
her  hands  and  eyes  lifted  up  to  heaven,  and  exprelling, 
in  other  ways,  much  joy  and  comfort.  When  walking 
with  others,  (he  would  difcourfe  on  the  vjorks,  as  wtil 
as  the  word  of  God,  in  a  (train  which  lliewed  them  to 
be  familiar  to  her  thoughts.  Her  mind  was  much 
employed  on  the  great  fubje6l  of  death.  It  \yas  com- 
mon for  her,  at  going  to  bed,  to  conveVfe  with  her 
maids  about  it  ;  faying,-  **  How  ought  we  to  think  of 
our  death,  when  this  night  m.ay  be  the  laft  !"  Some- 
times, when  taking  leave  of  them  at  night,  (lie  would 
fay,  **  Well,  I  urn  going  to  death's  kinfman." 

Her  devotion  vv^as  eminent.  She  prayed  regular! v 
three  times  a  day  at  leaft  ;  and  rarely  an  hour  p^jUed 
without  fecret  ejaculationso  Nor  was  it  uncommon 
for  her,  in  the  midft  of  her.  youthful  employmenis  or 
recreations,  to  fend  away  her  maids,  and  retire  for 
prayer.  Such  fervor  and  delight  did  (lie  feel  in  this 
duty,  that  (he  fometimes  forgot  herfeif  and  her  health 
fo  far,  as  to  continue  l^ortwo  hotjrs  in  her  clofet,  even 
amid  the  fevereit  cold.  Not  only  on  thefe  occadons, 
but  during  the  prayers  of  the  family,  it  was  common 
far  Jitr  to  fned  tears  in  abundance.  '  No  company,  no 
engagements,  were  permitted  to  fuperfede  her  devo- 
tions,    Bling  once  invited  10  go  iaio  the  prefence  of 

the 


i6S^  Memoirs  #f 

the  Queen,  and  being  of  courfe  ncceflitated  to  fpendl 
a  coniiderable  time  in  drefiing,  (he  immediately  after 
jetired  to  her  clofet.  The  Lady  who  was  to  intro- 
cJuce  her  being  come,  and  waiting  for  her,  her  mother^ 
3iot  knowing  the  caufe  of  her  delay,  went  haftily  into 
the  chamber,  where  (he  found  her  with  her  hands  lift^ 
rd  up  to  heaven,  snd  her  face  bedewed  with  tears,  ut- 
tering thefe  words  :  **  Good  Lord,  for  tlie  fake  of 
Jefas  Chrift,  fuffer  not  Satan  to  prevail  over  me  !'* 

The  latter  part  of  her  life,  it  was  thought  that  (he 
iifed  dated  prayer  at  Icall:  ten  times  a  day.  In  this 
■way  (he  confecrated  every  place  into  which  fhe  came^ 
tmd  converted  every  room  of  the  houfe  into  a  kind  of 
Oratory.  Yet  though  flie  fpent  fo  much  of  her  time 
in  retirement,  fhe  was  cheeriul,  as  well  as  affable,  in 
company  ;  and  appeared  as  if  her  heart  were  almofl 
continually  filled  with  comfort  and  joy.  The  prayers,, 
iighs  and  tears  which  fhe  fent  to  heaven,  feem.ed  to  re- 
turn in  peace  and  bleflings  into  her  foul.  Her  exem- 
plary devotion  imparted  to  her  whole  demeanor  a 
iweetnefs  and  folemnity  which  were  equally  engaging.. 

She  was  exemplarily  {iviS:  in  her  obfervance  of  the 
fabbath.  By  fecret  devotion  fhe  prepared  for  the  pub- 
lic worfbip  of  God.  She  heard  his  word  with  foleinri 
^nd  reverent  attention.  Returningfrom  the  fand^uary, 
file  repeated  in  pi;ivate  what  Ihe  could  remember  of 
the  fermons,  and  fpent  the  reft  of  the  da-y  in  reading 
to  others,  or  alone  ;  in  prayer,  meditation,  and  other 
pious  exercifes.  When  requeftcd  for  the  fake  of  her 
health  to  walk  abroad,  (he  generally  declined,  left  her 
xni nd  ftiould  be  diverted  from  things  divine. 

She  manifefted  a  ftncere  love  to  the  fouls  of  others  ;. 
inftrucling  and  admonilhing  the  ignorant,  reproving 
the  wicked,  comforting  the  difconfolate,  and  doing 
■what  was  in  her  power  to  prevent  fin  in  all.  She 
taught  the  fervants  the  things  of  religion  ;  exhorting 
them  to  be  conftant  in  prayer  and  reading  the  fcrip-. 
tiires;^  to  avoid  falfebood^  and  hQ  kind^  according  to. 

theii* 


Miss  Margaret  Andrews.   "        169 

their  ability,  to  the  poor.  She  warned  them  againfl: 
letting  any  bufinefs  whatever  prevent  them  from 
prayer;  and  efpccially,  that  they  fiiould  guard  their 
hearts  from  wandering  in  that  duty  ;  adding,  "  This 
I  tell  you,  becaiife  rny  heart  is  apt  to  do  fo."  If  any 
of  them  were  about  to  partake  the  Sacrament,  ilie  in- 
ftrucfed  them  into  the  danger  of  doing  it  unprepared  ;. 
Ihswing  the  neceOity  oi  repenting  and  fcrfaking  fm, 
efpecially  the  (in  to  which  they  were  moil  inclined. 
Sach  pious  counfels,  ftrengthened  by  her  good  exam- 
ple, feemed  much  bleiTed  to  feveral  of  the  fervants. 
One  of  them  in  particular  acknowledged  that  flie  had 
received  more  good  to  her  foul  by  this  young  lady, 
than  (he  had  got  elfevvhere  in  all  her  life  before. 

Though  anger  was  rarely,  if  ever,  manifefled  by 
her  on  any  other  account,  yet  ihe  has  been  known  to 
reprove  for  ini  with  great  pungency,  where  the  occafiori 
required  it.  In  a  perfon  of  fuch  a  fweet,  gentle,  in- 
oifenuve  difpofition,  this  difcovered  great  zeal  for  the 
honor  of  God,  and  a  lively  fenfe  of  the  danger  of  the 
guilty  perfon.  Nor  was  her 'fidelity  in  giving  re- 
proof greater  than  her  humility,  and  even  gratitude 
in  receiving  it. 

So  tender  was  her  compa^flion  to  thofe  who  were 
afEicled,  efpecially  in  mind,  that  though  her  modelly 
was  great,  (he  frequently  found  herfelf  compelled  to 
offer  confolation  to  thofe  in  this  ftate,  who  were  much 
older  than  herfelf.  To  a  vifitant  recentlv  deprived  of 
feveral  near  relative5,  and  otherwife  m.uch  diifreircd, 
file  judicIouOy  enlarged  on  the  wifdom  and  goodnefs 
of  God,  who  knew  what  was  befr  for  her,  and  no 
doubt  liad  gracious  purpofes  in  fending  thofe  afflic- 
tions ;  reprefenting  in  addition,  what  might  be  the 
probable  intention  of  them,  and  which  vv'ay  they  might 
turn  to  her  advantage,  and  the  confcquent  reafons  for 
fetting  bounds  to  her  forrovv-. 

If  any  fault  was  committed  in  tlie  houfe,  (he  wotil  • 
dcfire  her  mother  not  to  alk  the  fervants  about  it,  If, 

P   2.  £0j; 


l^O  iMElMOIES    OP 

for  fear  of  her  anger,  any  of  them  fhould  tell  a  lie  io 
conceal  it.  When  a  boy  in  the  family  was  taken  in 
a  fault,  fhe  defired  her  mother  to  corre6l  him  ;  to 
"which  her  mother  replied,  *  fhe  had  forgiven  him  fo 
many  faults,  that  fhe  would  turn  him  away.'  **  No, 
motlier,"  rejoined  the  young  interceflfor,  "  pray  let 
him  be  corrected,  and  tell  him  the  fm,  and  fet  before 
him  the  terrors  of  confcience,  and  the  torments  of  hell, 
and  I  warrant  you  it  will  do  him  good." 

If  any  poor  cnme  to  the  houfe,  Ihe  did  not  fail  to 
intercede  for  them  with  her  parents,  nor  to  add  fome- 
thing  of  her  own,  though  very  fecretly.  When  llis 
met  with  a  diftrelfcd  obje6t,  fhe  would  come  in  with 
tears  of  compallion  to  defire  relief  :  and  when  vilited 
by  fome  whom  fne  fufpecled  to  be  reduced  to  indi- 
gence from  circumftances  of  eafe,  llie  would  moft 
tenderly  draw  from  them  an  account  of  their  ftate,and 
offer  her  ailhiance,  if  there  was  need.  Nor  was  fhe 
contented  to  fupply  thofe  who  came  to  her  father's 
houfe,  but  went  abroad  in  queft  of  objeds  of  charity  ; 
yet  concealing  her  defign  as  much  as  polhble.  She 
once,  on  the  morning  of  Monday,  came  unperceivcd 
behind  a  poor  vv^oman  hard  at  work,  v/ho  was  that 
moment  thinking  how  flie  fliould  maintain  her  fami- 
ly through  the  week,  and  making  her  fad  complaint 
to  God  ;  and  putting  a  piece  of  money  into  her  hand, 
went  away.  The  unexpected  relief  greatly  affeded 
the  poor  woman,  who  thought  it  came,  as  by  an  an- 
gel from  heaven.  So  frequent  were  fuch  vifits,  with 
this  compaffionate  young  lady,  that  fhe  was  well  ac- 
cjuaintcd  with  the  condition  of  the  poor  of  the  parifh, 
and  fometimes  gave  particular  information  of  their 
iieceflities  to  her  parents,  informing  them  who  want- 
ed viduals,  clothes  or  fire,  and  importuning  them  for 
a  fupply  till  it  was  granted.  On  one  of  thefe  occa- 
fions,  ihe  faid  to  them  :  '*  If  you  will  but  give  what 
•wood  I  will  carry,  they  fhall  not  want."  She  would 
alfo  particularly  reckon  up  to  them  the  poor's,  charge, 

what 


Miss  Margaret  Andrew^".  t^x 

what  they  were  allowed,  and  what  they  could  earn, 
and  then  put  the  queftion  to  her  parents,  whether  they 
could  live  upon  fo  little  ;  and  this  fo  judicioufly,  that 
they  feldom  or  never  had  reafon  to  controvert  her 
flatements.  When  flie  could  not  go  abroad  herfelf, 
ihe  fent  money  to  the  poor  by  her  maid,  charging  her 
not  to  fay  any  thing  of  it.  She  alfo  injoined  on  her, 
that  when  any  poor  people  came,fhe  fnould  not  fpeak 
harfhly  to  them,  but  go  to  her  parents,  and  reprefent 
their  condition  ;  adding  a  charge  that  fhe  fhould  do 
the  fame  where^/cr  fhe  might  be  placed ;  and  that  when 
ihe  iliould  be  fettled  in  tlie  world,  Ihe  fhould  be  kind 
io  the  poor  ;  fiiying  fhe  would  find  that  far  from  hav- 
ing lefs  at  the  year's  end,  fhe  would  be  doubly  paid  by 
Providence. 

So  difpleafed  was  fbe  to  hear  any  thing  faid  injuri- 
ous to  the  reputation  of  another,  that  fhe  would  re- 
prove and  filence  the  lead  whifpers  of  detraction. 

To  thefe  excellencies,  truly  uncommon  in  one  fo 
young,  it  may  be  added,  that  her  difcretion  and  judg- 
ment were  fo  eminent,  that  even  the  aged  were  cau- 
tious what  they  faid  before  her  ;  and  that  fuch  was  her 
humility,  meeknefs  and  univcrfal  exemplarinefs,  as  to 
rank  her  among  the  firfl:-rate  Chriflians. 

A  little  before  her  laft  ficknefs,  fhe  thus  expoftulaf- 
cd  with  her  mother,  in  whom  ilie  difcovered  an  im- 
moderate anxiety  about  her  :  **  Am  I  not,"  faid  fhe, 
•*  in  the  hands  of  God?  Cannot  he  preferve  me  ?  If 
it  be  his  pleafure,  I  lliall  live.  If  nor,  ycur  care  can- 
not preferve  me.  And  what  if  he  fhould  take  me  ? 
You  will  not  be  long  after  me.  If  you  live  twenty 
or  thirty  years  after  me,  what  is  that  to  eternity  r"-^ 
Such  expreffions  render  it  not  improbable  that  flie  had 
fome  apprehenfions  of  approaching  death  ;  efpecinlly 
as  flie  was  heard  about  this  time  to  exprefs  a  wiih 
that  her  mother  had  another  child,  and  that  her  par- 
ents had  lefs  afredlion  for  her.  Slie  likcvvife  oblerv- 
ed;  in  confecjuence  of  a  journey  being  planned  for  her, 

that 


3  7^. 


Memoirs  o? 


that  if  {lie  went  to  the  place  contemplated,  fhe  fiiould 
never  return. 

Soon  after,  being  within  feme  months  of  fourteeq^ 
file  was  feized  with  the  fickncfs  which  gave  her  up  to 
God  and  glory.  Being  in  great  pain  at  fir^V,  fhe  ofteri 
called  on  God,  and  faid,  ^*  He  is  very  merciful  to  me  ; 
for  what  I  feel  is  nothing  to  the  fufferings  of  Chrill 
forme."  After  fome  eafe,  fhe  faid,  **  God  1%  very- 
gracious  in  giving  us  pain  ;  otherv/ife,  Ave  ihould  not 
know  how  to  be  thankiul  for  eafe." 

She  fpent  much  of  her  ficknefs  in  prayer  ;  and  when 
llie  could  not  fpcak,  fhev/ed  great  figns  of  inward  de- 
votion. 

Two  or  three  hours  before  her  death,  her  mother 
faid  to  her,  *'  My  dear,  are  you  fo  ill  that  you  think 
yoQ  ihall  die  ?  Be  not  backward  to  tell  me,  for  it  will 
not  be  hard  for  me  to  part  with  you  to  God,  if  it  be ' 
his  pleafcre."  To  this  queftion  fhe  replied,/mlling,> 
<*  I  hope  God  will  pardon  my  fms" — thus  intimating 
her  hope  that  rae  fhould  find  the  fting  of  death  taken 
out.  She  afterwards  a(ked  the  Doftor,  **Dayou 
think  I  fliall  die  r"  He  anfwered,  *♦  Madam,  no  one 
can  tell  that."  She  replied,  "  Pray,^  Doaor,  deal 
plainly  vs'ilh  me  :  I  would  not  be  deluded."  He  anf- 
wered, "It  is  doubtful."  She  then  faid,  <*  I  have 
been  a  great  fmner  ;  but  I  hope  God  svill  pardon  me. 
My  Savior  is  in  heaven,  and  I  hope  he  will  put  on  me 
the  white  robe."  She  confefied  the  former  mercies  of 
God  to  her,  faid  fhe  had  been  troubled  for  fin,but  the 
Lord  had  gi^en  her  the  Comforter,  and  fealed  her, 
and  fhe  had  been  comforted  ever  fince.  She  then,  with 
the  confent  of  her  parents,  ordered  confiderable  fums 
of  money  to  be  given  to  the  poor  after  lier  death.  Af- 
ter this,  addrefiing  her  father  and  mother,  flie  faid, 
"  Pray,  do  not  be  troubled  when  I  am  gone.  Do  you 
think  you  Ihall  be  long  after  me  r"  Mtr  father  and 
vhe  relf  of  the  family  kneeling  down,  and  recommend- 
ing her  to  God,    fns   feemsd  devout   and   cheerful^ 

Praycv 


Miss  Margaret  Andrews-.  173 

JPrayer  being  ended,  fhe  bowed  forward,  exprefTing 
her  gratitude  to  God,  and  her  acknowledgments  to 
her  father.  She  then  afkcd  for  the  minifter,  who  coni- 
ing  to  her  when  her  fpirits  were  almoft  fpent,  (he 
faid  to  him,  *'  O  Sir,  I  have  been  a  great  Tinner,  but 
I  hope  God  will  pardon  me.'*  Afterwards  fhe  was 
heard  to  pray,  and  to  call  upon  the  name  of  Jefus. 
Thus,  without  any  cloud  upon  her  intelle£ls,  fhe  de^ 
parted  to  the  eternal  tifion  and  enjoyment  of  him. 

Her  funeral  fermon  was  preached,  according  to  her 
deOre,  from  2d  Timothy y  4.  7,8. 

How  does  fuch  an  example  of  piety  thus  mature  in 
one  Icfs  than  fourteen,  reprove  the  irreligious,  ufelefs, 
perhaps  pernicious  old  age  of  multitudes!  "While  it 
forcibly  allures  the  young,  the  thoughtlefs  and  the  gay, 
to  that  religion  which  confers  fuch  real  dignity^  and 
fuch  fubltaniial  pleafure  ;  which  can  render  them  in 
life  fo  ufeful,  in  death  fo  happy  ! 

In  a  Latin  epitaph,  prefixed  to  her  life,  are  expref- 
fions  to  the  following  purpofe  : 

**  She  was  a  perfon  rarely  paralleled  — the  hope  and 
love  of  her  parents — the  delight  and  ornament  of  her 
family — Her  bofom  was  the  temple  of  modeliy,  puri- 
ty and  goodnefs — To  the  poor  fhe  richly  fcatterecl 
bleiTmgs — the  pomps  of  the  world  fhe  difdained — the 
powers  of  Satan  fhevanquifhed^ — for  God  dwelt  in  her,. 
^.rii\  file  in  God. — Wonder  not  that  fuch  a  fpirit  made 
fo  fhort  a  vifit  to  our  world,  as  its  prayers  and  devout 
breathings  were  the  wings  and  gales  that  wafted  it  to- 
its  heavenly  reft.  Depart,  traveller  ^  ponder,  and  be 
Wifej' 


LADY 


1^4-  Memoirs  of 


LADY    ALICE    LUCY, 


J^HE  was  the  wife  cf  Sir  ThGinas  Lucy,  an 
amiable  man,  to  whom  Ihe  was  married  while  verY 
voung.  All  the  virtues  which  can  be  wfiiicd  for  in  a 
wife,  her  favored  hufband  found  in  her  :  while  fhe,  no 
lefs  favored,  received  from  him  every  proof  and  ex- 
pjelTion  cf  the  tcndereit  regard. 

The  rational  and  refined  enjoyment  which  might 
be  anticipated  from  the  union  of  virtuous  and  con- 
genial minds,  was  indulged  them  for  a  period  of  thir- 
ty years  ;  at  the  clofe  of  which  the  lady  who  is  the 
fubjecl  of  lliefe  brief  memoirs,  found  herfeif  plunged 
into  the  depths  of  diitrefs,  by  the  lofs  of  one  who  was 
far  dearer  to  her  than  life.  But  the  Being  who  afflict- 
ed her,  was  her  refuge  and  fupport.  He  upheld  her 
when  ready  toTmk,  and  gave  her  comfort  in  all  her 
tribulation.  Though  confined,  far  the  greater  part 
of  the  time,  to  her  chamber  by  bodily  infirmities,  fhe 
was  ftill  enabled  to  manage  with  fmgular  prudence 
the  extenfive  concerns  connefled  with  a  large  eflate, 
and  to  govern  a  Kumerous  famdly,  with  admirable 
wiidom. 

She  continuiilly  carried  about  the  burden  of  a  weak 
body,  but  fhc  bore  it  with  exemplary  patience,  and 
improved  the  trial  to  her  fpiritual  advantage.  It  was 
her  great  affiicUon  that  Cni  could  not  vi fit  the  houfe  of 
God,  and  attend  on  thofe  ordinances  in  which  He  has 
proraifed  his  prefence,  and  where  his  people  iTiay  ex- 
pea  his  bleffing.  But  as  fhe  could  not  go  from  her 
nabitaiion  to  the  houfe  of  God,  Hie  made  a  ciiurch  of 

her  ■ 


.  Lady  Alice  Lucy,  xjS 

^cr  hoiife,  where  for  feveral  years,  iinlefs  preventeJ 
by  extraordinary  weaknefs,  ("he  heard  the  preaching  of 
the  word  every  Lord's  day  evening ;  firi6l!y  requiring 
the  prcfence  o't  all  her  family,  and  fetting  them  the 
example  of  great  reverence  and  iblemnity  of  atten- 
tion. 

Her  firft  employment  every  day  was  to  addrefs  her 
heavenly  Father  in  fecret.  Her  next  was  to  read  fomc 
nort ion  from  the  fcriptiires,  and  from  other  pious  and 
r.rofitable  books,  with  which  her  library  was  well  fiir- 
nifhed.  No  fooner  was  fhe  informed  of  any  valuable 
publication  of  the  religions  kind,  than  (he  endeavored 
to  make  it  her  own,  and  to  make  herfelf  the  better 
by  it. 

'  As  flie  poffefied  an  excellent  underflanding,  and  an 
ardent  thirft  for  knowledge,  efpecially  in  fpiritnal 
things,  (lie  fpent  much  of  her  time  in  reading  :  and 
what  Ihe  read,  {he  digelkd,  and  endeavored  to  make 
her  own.  The  fame  prailice  which  (he  found  bene- 
ficial to  herfelf,  fhe  recommended  to-  her  children. 
She  inculcated  on  them  a  ferious  care  and  diligence  in 
the  acquifition  of  divine  knowledge,  and  caufcd  them 
to  read  every  day  fome  portion  boih  from  the  Old  and 
New  Teliament,  in  her  prefence  and  hearing. 

About  an  hour  be'ore  fupper,  fhe  appointed  one  of 
her  children  to  read  fome  pious  andufetul  fermon  be- 
fore herfelf  and  the  other  children  ;  frequently  taking 
occafion  to  inftil  into  their  minds  pleafant  and  profit- 
able inftrudlion,  and  exhorting  them  to  a  con.ftant, 
religious  walk  with  God.  In  the  evening,  a  little  before 
HieVent  to  reft,  fhe  colledcd  them  all  into  her  lodg- 
ing-room, where  they  joined  in  fmgir.g  a  pfalm  ;  the 
ftrv.ints  uniformly  doing  the  fame  alter  frpper,  before 
they  rofe  from  the  table.  After  her  children  had  done 
finging,  fhe  gave  them  many  pious  exhortations,  and 
her  maternal  bencdiclion,  and  then  difmiiTcd  them, 
{Such  was  her  continual  courfe. 

Thus 


176  Memoirs  of 

Thus  ferious  and  exemplary  was  her  diligence  to 
increafe  the  fpirit  of  piety  in  herfelf,  and  to  transfufe 
it  to  the  bofoms  of  her  children.  Some  of  them  tafted 
death  before  their  dear  mother  :  yet  fhe  left  no  lefs 
than  ten  behind  her — five  fons,  and  five  daughters — 
who  were  all  prefent  at  her  funeral,  and  who  were  all 
inclined,  with  the  children  of  the  virtuous  woman 
rpoken  of  in  fcripture,  to  call  her  bkjj'ed. 

Next  to  the  golden  chain  of  graces  mentioned  by 
St.  Peter,  (2d  Epiji.  i.  5,  6,  7. J  with  which  Ihe  was 
eminently  beautified,  and  the  ornament  cf  a  meek  and 
quiet  fpirit  J  file  accounted  her  children  her  chief  orna- 
ments. Her  earned  defires  and  endeavors  Vvcre,  to 
be  inftrumental  to  ennoble  and  adorn  them  with  every 
virtuous  habit,  and  to  make  them  the  true  children  ©f 
God.  She  felt,  and  was  folicitous  to  have  them  alfo 
ieel,  that  if  they  wotild  be  happy,  they  mud  have  fome- 
ihing  far  fuperior  to  an  illuitrious  natural  defcent,  and 
fplendid  alliances  ;  namely,  a  nezv  and  celcjlial  hirthy 
and  a  relation  to  the  family  of  heaven.  Often  did  £hc 
inculcate  on  them,  that  real  holinefs  is  true  greatnefs  ; 
and  that  unlefs  to  their  great  eft  ate  the  riches  of  divintj 
grace  were  fuperadded,  they  would  one  day  wifli  they 
Iiad  never  been  born.  Nor  was  flic  lefs  concerned  to 
2et  them  know,  that  the  more  any  of  them  feared  and 
ierved  God,  the  greater  fhare  might  they  expecl  ifi  her 
iove. 

She  was  not  more  diftinguifhed  or  abundant  in  the 
duties  of  piety,  than  in  thofe  of  charity.  Beilde  the 
blefljng  of  a  great  eflate,  God  iiad  given  her  what  was 
i^ar  more  deilrable  ;  a  heart  to  make  the  bell  ufe  of  it. 

Not  a  day  paifed,  but  in  which  fhe  reached  out  her 
hands  to  the  needy.  A  great  number  Ihe  relieved  at 
her  gates  ;  and  gave  charge  to  her  porter,  that  when 
there  came  any  who  were  very  aged,  or  who  had  fuf- 
tained  great  lofles  in  the  times  of  civil  war,  efpeciaU 
ly  li  they  feemed  honeft,  he  fliould  come  and  acquaint 
her  j  that  ihe  might  enlarge  her  bounty  to  a   corref- 

pondence 


Lady  Alixte  Lucy;  177 

Tiondence  with  their  ncceflities.  Nor  was  (he  a  little 
difpieafed  when  thefe  orders,  or  thofe  which  fne  gave 
her  fervants  for  the  relief  of  the  ordinary  poor,  were 
neglecled. 

In  limes  of  fcarcity,  rtie  fent  many  loaves  every 
week  to  various  towns  in  the  neighborhood.  She 
caufed  her  corn  to  be  fold  in  the  iriarkets  in  fuch  fmall 
quantities,  as  might  not  exceed  the  -abililies  of  the 
poor  to  purchafe.  She  allowed  certain  meals  in  her 
houfe  to  feveral  poor  neighbors,  whole  want  was  vifi- 
ble  in  their  pale  faces  :  and  when  they  had  by  her 
bounty  recovered  their  former  complexion,  and  re- 
ceived, as  it  were,  a  new  life,  fhc  remarked,  that  the 
fight  of  fo  happy  an  alteration  in  them  did  her  as 
much  good  as  any  thing  which  fiie  ate  herfelf. 

Like  another  Dorcas,  (lie  provided  many  coats  and 
garments  for  the  poor.  She  likev/ife  conilantly  em- 
ployed many  elderly  men  and  women  in  fuch  v/crks 
as  v/ere adapted  to  their  age  and  ftrength. 

Whenever  the  phyncian  came  to  her  honfe,  Vac  in- 
q«]ired  whether  there  were  any  fick  perfons  in  the 
town,  that  flie  might  fiirnifh  fuch  as  were  unprovid- 
ed, with  the  fam.e  accom.m-odations  which  fhe  enjoy- 
<?d  herfelf.  And  on  all  occaiions,  when  file  heard  of 
any  who  were  ill,  fhe  very  cheerfully  commiunicated 
whatever  Ihe  thought  molf  conducive  to  their  recove- 
ry ;  having  not  only  ample  fiores  of  con'ials  and  re- 
iloratives  alv/ays  with  her,  but  great  fl^ill  and  judg- 
ment in  their  application. 

Thusextenfive  and  various  was  her  liberality.  Its 
crowning  eKCcllence  was  that'it  proceeded  from  prin- 
ciple. She  deeply  felt  that  faith  is  but  a  fancy,  with- 
out the  labor  of  love,  and  that  the  more  any  poiTcfs, 
the  more  good  they  are  bound  to  do.  She  had  well 
\veighed  the  meaning  and  importance  of  that  infpired 
declaration  (James  i.  27.)  that  pure  religion  and  un- 
defiled  before  God  and  the  Father,  is,  tovijit  the  father- 
JeJ's  and  ividoivs  in  their  ciJ[JIittim^  and  to  keep  one's  f elf 
CL  wifpotted 


;i[^8  Memoirs  o-f 

tmjpotted  from  the  work!.  The  whole  o{  xKis  pure 
and  undeji led  vtWpon  was  exemplified  in  her  :  for  as 
file  vijited  the  fathcrJcfs  and  widoivs,  fo  fhe  kept  her-f 
J  elf  unfpctted  frcr,i  the  world.  She  was  not  indeed 
freeirom  all  remainders  ot  human  infirmity  and  cor- 
ruption ;  but  w^as  remarkably  exempt,  through  life, 
from  fuch  failings  and  mifcarriages  as  peculiarly  tend 
to  diihonor :God,and  tarniili  the  Chriftian  profeffion. 
pier  foul  m.ight  be  compared  to  a  beautiful,  well-cul- 
tivated gardenj  not  only  free,  in  good  meafure,  from 
"Weeds,  but  richly  rcpleniilied  with  every  kind  of 
fragrant,  flowers  and  ufeful  fruits.  Or  fnc  might  be 
jefembled  tothefun,  which  is  not  only  free  from  fpots, 
but  full  of  light.  As  Boaz  faid  to  Ruth,  that  al]  the 
city  knew  that  Ihe  was  a  virtuous  woman,  fo  it  might 
be  faid  of  this  eminent  woman,  that  all  the  country  bore 
tellimony  to  thepurity  and  excellence  of  her  charaif^er. 
At  her  entrance  on  her  laft  ficknefs,  which  contin- 
ued about  a  fortnight,  fhe  apprehended  her  life  would 
be  very  (hort,  and  accordingly  endeavored  to  be  pre- 
pared for  her  diffolution.  Yet  though  her  mind  was 
, tranquil  in  the  profpe6l  -of  death,  and  fhe  faw  no 
hope  of  recovery,  flie  edeemed  it  her  duty  to  comply 
•with  the  prefcriptions  of  her  phyilcians,  efpecially 
:!s  file  had  been  indebted  to  their  eminent  ajiiduity, 
and  (kill,  under  the  blelllng  of  Providence,  for  her 
reftoration,  in  former  inflances,  from  the  very  gates 
of  death.  But  the  time  was  come  when  phylicians 
were  unavailing,  and  medicines  without  efficacy. — ■ 
The  laPc  words  of  this  pious  woman  were  the  follow- 
ing :  **  My  God  !  I  come  flying  unto  thee."  Soon 
after,  her  foul  took  its  flight  from  fm  and  forrovy,  and 
^refted  in  the  bofoni  of  her  Lord  and  Savior,  in  the 
year  1648. 

Such  was  her  modedy  and  humility,  that  though, 
having  erected  a  magnificent  monument  for  her  huf- 
|band,  fhe  defired  that  Ihe  mightbelaid  by  his  fide,  ihe 
;S;Yas  yet   unwilling  to  have  any  epitaph  at  all  for  her-- 

ffflf. 


Lady  Alice  Lucy,  ijg' 

felf.  Slie  feemed  to  think  that  the  moH:  that  couH 
be  faidof  him  was  too  little,  and  the  Icall:  concern- 
ing heiTelf,  too  much.  Being  over-ruled  by  her  friends 
in  her  fa/orite  wifh,  fhe  barely  permitted  that  fome- 
thing  fhould  be  infcribed  expretlive  of  her  afFedioii 
for  her  **  deareft  hulband"  while  fhe  enjoyed  him, 
and  her  tender  remembrance  of  him  after  his  deceafe. 
Only  one  thing  more  was  added,  and  this  againO:  her 
will  :  that  her  other  exquifite  virtues  were  torbiddcn 
by  her  exceliive  modeiiy  to  make  their  appearance  i.n 
that  marble^ 


Lady  MARGARET  HOUGHTON. 


X^  ROM  a  fermon  preached  at  the  funeral  erf 
this  lady,  Jan.  4.  1657,  by  the  eminent  Mr.  Ambrofe, 
the  following  defcription  of  fume  leading  traits  in 
her  character  is  in  fubfiance  extracted. 

After  difcourfing  from  Ephtftans  5.  16,  on  redeem- 
ing  fhe  time,  he  expreffes  himfelf  to  the  following 
purpofe. 

The  deceafed  redeemed  her  time  in  life  and  deatlh 
I.  In  life.  Ordinarily,  every  morning  and  every 
evening  (he  was  exercifed  in  the  duties  of  meditation 
and  prayer.  This  was  hercourfe  ;  artd  daily,  in  her 
•walks,  or  private  chamber^  (he  fpent  both  her  early 
and  later  hours  in  communion  with  God.  I  fpeak 
not  this  by  report;  but  in  confeqtience  of  an  intimatie 

acquaintance 


iSo  Memoirs  op 

acquaintance  contrafted  by  frequently  vlfiting  her 
houfe.  It  was  an  abode  of  religion  :  a  peaceful  re- 
tirement from  the  nolle  and  temptations  of  the  world  ; 
affording  her  and  myfelf  a  happy  opportunity  forun-. 
interrupted  devotion. 

The  books  (he  read  were  calculated  to  afTift  either 
contemplation,  or  devotion,  or  a  holy  walk  :  but  of 
all  books,  fhe  preferred,  for  conftant  w^Cy  the  Bible  ; 
often  remarking,  that  other  books  had  their  life  and 
delight,  till  by  by  frequent  reading,  they  loff  fome- 
thing  of  their  luiire  and  excellence  ;  but  that  the 
Ei'ole  was  ever  frefh  and  knew.  She  foynd  in  it  fuch 
perpetual  ftreams  of  fpiritual  and  heavenly  delights, 
that,  with  Tertuilian,  the  "  could  not  but  admire  and 
adore  the  fulnefs  of  the  Scriptures." 

The  red  of  the  day  fhe  ordinarily  fpent  in  works 
of  the  needle,  and  attention  to  the  concerns  of  her 
family.  She  confidered  ilillenefs  as  the  ruft  and  cank-= 
er  of  the  foul,  and  Satan's  favorite  feafon  of  tempta- 
tion. She  fometimes  yifited  poor  cottages,  and  re- 
lieved the  necellities  ftie  found  there.  In  a  word,, 
take  her  characler  in  all  its  parts,  and  fhe  feemed  a 
worthy  pattern  for  moil  of  the  ladies  in  the  nation. 
At  lealf,  ihe  fhoae  among  them  v/iih  a  diftinguilhing 
and  fuperior  luftre. 

2.  As  ihe  redeemed  her  tim.e  in  life,  fo  fhe  redeem- 
ed it  at  or  near  the  feafon  of  death.  Being  taken, 
from  her  ordinary  duties,  Ihe  was  more  abundant  in 
the  exercife  of  thofe  fpiritual  graces  v>"hich  fhe  had 
manifefied  through  life. 

She  was  eminent  in  meeknef?.  She  exhibited  much 
of  a  m.ild  and  quiet  fpirit.  Often  have  I  obferved 
her  amidfi  provocations,  peaceable,  meek,  gentle,  and 
eafy  to  be  intreated.  In  her  ficknefs,  fhe  behaved 
herVelf  as  a  lamb.  Not  a  word  of  paffion  or  peeviih- 
nefs  dropped  from  her  lips.  The  very  image  of  that 
divine  Savior  who  faid,  Learn  of  me,  for  I  am  meek  ; 
fecmcd;  in  thk  refpect,  drawn  fair  within  her. 

Shs. 


Lady  Ma-rgar-et  Houghto>7.         i8d' 

She  was  eminent  for  humility.  Though  of  highl- 
and even  royal  defcent,  ftie  was  lowly  in  fpirit.  She 
never  defpifed  the  pooreft  creature,  but  often  ftcoped 
to  v/hat  others  viewed  as  wonderful  condefcenfions. 
In  her  ficknefs,  as  well  as  death,  Ihe  laid  her  honor- 
in  the  dull  :  and  through  life,  •  clothed  herfelf  with- 
humility. 

She  was  remarkable  for  her  patience,  and  fubmif- 
fion  to  the  divine  difpofals.     Her  iicknels  was  fevere  " 
and  tedious  in  itfelf ;  and  Teemed  the  more  fo  on  ac-  - 
count  of  her  former  health,  which  through  her  great 
care  and  conftant  exercife,  had  been  remarkably  hrm 
and  uninterrupted.       Yet  though    the  rcverfe  was  {o 
great,  that  fhe  found  herfelf  unable  even  to  move,  flie 
was    patiently    fubmillive    under  the   hand   of  God ; 
having  learned  the  church's  lelTon  :  I  will  hear  the  in- 
dignation of.  the  -  Lord  J  hecaujc    I  have  finned   againjl 
him,'- 

She  was  eminent  for  faith.  She  often  acknow- 
ledged her  vilenefs  and  wretchednefs,  that  fne  was  of 
little  faith,  and  had  no  ability  to  help  herfelf.  Indeed 
her  vveaknefs  in  every  grace,  and  in  all  religious  per- 
formances, was  her  contlant  complaint.  1  have  feea 
others  in  ficknei's,  very  confident  of  their  falvation, 
whom  though  1  dare  notcenfurc,  becaiife  unacquaint- 
ed with  their  grounds  \  yet  1  mud  acknowledge  that: 
I  dearly  love  a  humble,  trembling,  fclf-condemning 
frame.  Sure  I  am,  that  they  who  areihevileit  in  their 
own  eyes,  a/e  the  fduls  in  whom  God  moit  delights. 
The  man  -/ho  will,  as  it  were,  kifsthe  dull  of  Jefus' 
feet,  He  will  take  in  his  arms,  and  lay  in  his  bofom. 
Such  was  the  fpirit  of  this  good  lady.  She  was  preil 
with  a  fenfe  »f  her  fpiritual  poverty  ;  yet  fhc  ca!^ 
herfelf  into  the  arms  of  Chritt  :  yea,  fhe  lay  at  his 
feet,  crying,  "  Ljr^/,  I  believe  ;  help  thou  7ny  unht-- 
lief.''  At  another  tiine  :  **  Though  the  Lord  fhr 
me,  yet  will  I  trull:  in  him."  At  another  :'' Ho 
hath    delivered,    he  doth  deliver,  and  J   truil:  in  hini 


iS2  Memoirs  0  9 

that  he  will  deliver  me  flill."     And  again  :   '' Hold- 
out faith,  and  anon  thou  wilt  come  to  vifion."  This 
expreilion,   "hold  out  faith,"  w^as  one  of  the  laft  fhe 
uttered. 

She  was  remarkable  for  her  love  to  tlie  minifters 
of  Chrift.  Her  heart,  wholly  fet  on  Jefus,  w^as  at- 
tracted to  his  bleffcd  image,  wherever  it  was  difcern- 
ed,  efpecially  in  his  arabaffadors.  Among  others, 
file  was  pleafed  to  (hew  her  regard  tome,  the  un- 
worthieft  of  all  my  Mailer's  melTengers.  The  Lord 
made  her  the  firft  wheel  of  his  providence  in  bring- 
ing me  hither.  Indeed  fhe  honored  all  the  miniftcrs 
of  Chrirt,  and  the  fundion  itfelf,  for  his  fake. 

She  v/as  full  of  love  and  charity  to  all.  Many  dif- 
cords  have  happened  in  thefe  fad  times,  and  Ihe  has 
fufrered  much  in  many  refpeds.  In  her  approach  to 
the  confines  of  eternity,  I  defired  her  to  forgive  others, 
as  fhe  defired  God  to  forgive  her  :  on  which  (he  very 
alfeclionately  declajed  that  '  (he  freely  forgave  all  the 
-world,  and  defired  all  whom  ihe  had  offended  to  for- 
give her.'  Her  children  kneeling  about  her,  fhe  gave 
them  her  blelling,  whicii  fhe  pronounced  with  luch 
cheerful nefs,  aifedion  and  fervor  of  fpirit,  as  melted 
the  hearts,  and  drew  a  flood  of  tears  from  the  eyes, 
of  thofe  about  her  bed  ;  infomuch  that  ihe  felt  con- 
ilrained  to  roufe  herfelf  up,  and  addrefs  them,  as 
Chrifl  did  the  weeping  women  :  *'  IP'eep  not  for  tne^ 
but  iveep  for  yourf elves.''  Why  Ihould  you  weep  for 
me  who  am  going  to  my  Cliriil,  and  to  thofe  joys 
prepared  by  him.'  After  this,  fhe  gave  a  folemn 
charge  refpeillng  the  duties  incumbent  on  children  of 
the  fame  family,  toward  each  other. 

Finally,  this  pious  lady  was  defirous  to  die,  and  to 
be  with  Chrid,  which  flie  viewed  asbeflof  all.  Some- 
limes  Ihe  exclaimed,  **0!  when  will  that  blelfed 
hour  come  r"  And  again  :  **  O  that  I  were  diffolved, 
that  I  might  be  with  Chriil!"  Being  reminded  of 
her  duty  to  wait  with  paiience,  fne  replied  ;  "  I  will 

wait. 


Lady  Margaret  Houghton,         1S3 

wait.  Lord,  /  will  zvait  till  my  change  /hall  come.''' 
She  comtorted  herlelif  with  the  recolledion  of  that 
promife  [Heh.  10.  37.)  For  yet  a  little  while ^  and  he 
that  jhall  come yVjill  comcy  and  will  not  tarry,  —  One 
thir.g  occaiioned  her  trouble.  She  was  afraid  that 
her  frame  would  not  yield  to  theftroke  of  death  with- 
out much  llruggling.  Her  reafons  were  beft  known 
to  herfelf,  but  her  apprehenllons  were  verified  :  for 
indeed,  when  death  feized  her  heart,  flie  uttered  fuch 
groans,  that  (he  out-groaned  all  our  prayers.  At  laft, 
the  refiftance  of  nature  was  overcome  ;  and  fhe  calm- 
ly and  quietly  left  the  world,  in  the  midft  of  our  fup- 
plications. 

You  fee  nov/,  concludes  the  preacher,  how  {he  re- 
deemed the  time  in  life  and  death.  As  Chrilt  laid  to 
the  lawyer,  fo  let  me  fay  to  you  :  Go  thcUy  and  do 
likezvife.  It  is  not  long  that  any  of  you  have  to  live. 
Therefore  I  befeech  you,  improve  time,  and  lay  hold 
of  every  feafon  to  fecure  heaven.  Walk  accurately^ 
exadlly,  circumfpeStlyy  not  as  foolsy  hut  as  wife,  re' 
deeming  the  time)  bccaufe  the  days  are  evil. 


Miss 


/^4  Memoirs  of 


Miss  ANN  BAYNARD- 


s 


'HE  was  the  beloved  daughter,  and  onl)f 
-child,  of  Dr.  Edward  Baynard  ;  who  early  diicover- 
ing  in  her  an  elegant  and  fprightly  genius,  united 
with  a  natural  propenfity  to  learning,  was  induced  to 
indulge  her  with  a  literary  education.  This  privilege 
ihe  improved  to  excellent  purpofe.  By  indeiatigabls 
diligence  and  applicadon,  Ihe  acquired  an  accurate 
and  extenijve  knowledge  of  the  matheiTiatics,  of  af- 
tronomy,  of  natural  philofophy,  and  the  learned  lan- 
guages.  She  took  peculiar  pains  to  gain  a  pcrfedl 
acquaintance  with  the  Greek  tongue,  that  To  ihe  might 
be  able  to  read  not  only  the  New  Tedament  in  the 
original,  but  likewife  the  writings  of  fome  of  the 
ancient  Fathers,  particularly  St.  Chryfollom.  With 
the  Latin  fne  was  fo  familiar,  as  to  compofe  wiih  eafe 
in  that  language  :  and  fo  far  did  (lie  penetrate  into 
the  depths  of  metaphyfics,  as  to  become  an  accom- 
pUniedireafoner,  •  She  pofTeffed  a  very  unufual  extent 
of  knowledge  ;  yet  her  capacious  and  comprehenfive 
mind  was  confiantly  coveting  more.  In  thefe  things, 
fhe  would  frequently  obferve,  it  was  a  fm  to  be  con- 
tented with  a  Uttle, 

Yet  with  all  thefe  endovvmcnts  and  acquifitions,* 
Hie  deeply  felt  that  there  were  other  things  of  far 
greater  importance.  •  With  profound  humilily,  and 
proflration  of  mind,  flie  would  exclaim,  in  the  lan- 
guage of  the  Ap  (Ue  Paul,  <*  I  coufit  all  things  but 
]ofs,  for  the  excellency  of  the  knowledge  of  Chrift 
Jpfus  my   Lord,     She  has    frequently  been   heard  to 

fay. 


Miss  Ann  Baynard.  1S5' 

fay  that  '  human  learning  was  worth  nothing,  unlefs, 
as  a  handmaid,  it  led  to  the  knowledge  of  Chriil:  re- 
vealed in  the  Gofpel,  as  our  only  Lord  and  Savior.—- 
Nor  was  her  progrefs  fmall,  in  this  bielfed  and  invalu- 
able knowledge. 

Her  fenfe  of  the  precioufnefs  of  true  religion,  and 
her  preference  of  it  to  all  other  acquifitions,  was  of- 
ten manifeifed  in  fuch  difcourfes  as  thefe.  ^*  What 
avails,"  fhe  would  fay,  '*  the  ildW  of  Solomon  in  all 
the  works  of  nature,  if  we  are  not  brought  by  them, 
10  fee  the  God  of  nature  r — What  is  it  to  be  fo  (ktU 
ful  in  aftronomy,  and  the  knowledge  of  the  heavens, 
as  even  to  foretei  things  to  come,  if  we  never  Iludy, 
by  our  holy  pra6Lice,  to  arrive  at  thofe  blefled  regions  > 
What  is  it  to  be  fo  flcilful  in  arithmetic,  as  that  we 
can  divide  and  fubdividc  to  the  fmalleft  frailion,  un- 
lefs, as  God  hath  revealed  unto  us  in  his  holy  word, 
we  fo  learn  to  number  our  days,  as  to  apply  our  hearts 
to  wifdom  ? — What  isitfor  aphyfician  tobe  fo  flcilful 
in  forefeeing  and  preventing  the  difeafes  of  the  body, 
unlefs,  as  God  hath  revealed  unto  him,  he  knows 
where  to  find  the  balm  of  Gilead,  the  wine  and  oil  of 
that  Samaritan,  the  Lord  Jefus  Chriff,  to  pour  into 
the  federcd  wounds  of  his -own  foul  and  confcience  r'* 

Such  fentimencs  as  ihefe  were  familiar  to  her. — 
And  they  feemed  not  to  be  mere  fpeculations,  but  to 
determine  her  pra6lical  judgem.ent,  and  influence  her 
whole  fpirit  and  life. .  She  gave  a  conflant  and  de- 
vout attendance  on  the  preaching  of  the  word,  and 
the  Sacrament  of  the  Lord's  Supper  :  nor  was  (he 
abfcnt  from  the  daily  prayers  of  the  Church  unlefs^ 
prevented  by  bodily  indifpofition.  In  the  duties  of 
private  devotion,  ihe  was  equally  confcientious.  In 
her  clofet,  like  holy  David,  Ihe  communed  with  her 
own  heart,  and  folemnly  examined  the  Hate  and  con- 
dition cf  her  foul,  that  Ihe  might  fland  in  awe,  and 
not  fin.  She  cheerfully  embraced  all  convenient  op- 
portunities for  retirement,  that  fhe  might  enjoy  more 

fenftble 


1 86  Memoirs  of 

fenHble  and  uninterrupted  intercourfe  with  heaven . 
She  believed  that  one  of  the  mod  effedlual  ways  oto- 
vercomlng  the  world,  and  living  above  it,  was  to  with- 
draw herielf  from  it  ;  and  that  the  bell^ preparative 
for  death,  was  to  die  daily  in  holy  folitude  and  pri- 
vacy. By  the  blelling  or  God  on  theie  attempts,  flic 
was  fo  happy  as  to  find  herielr  early  reconciled  to  her 
diiibiution  ;  an  event  which  was  much  in  her  thoughts, 
and  of  which  ihe  feemed  to  have  fome  peculiar  pre- 
monitions. 

AmiJ  her  fondnefs  for  retirement,. however,  the  fo- 
cial  duties  were  neliher  forgotten  nor  neglected.  Her 
circumRances  did  not  permit  her  to  extend  her  lib^e- 
rality  as  ihe  wiihed.  Yet  ihe  v/as  cheerful  and  con- 
llant,  if  not  abundant,  in  giving.  Nor  did  Ihe  fail  to 
feqneller  a  certain  proportion  of  what  was  allowed 
her,  to  benevolent  and  pious  ufes.  But  her  charity 
di fplayed  itfelf  in  ways  (1111  more  noble  and  impor- 
tant. She  tenderly  loved  the  fouls  of  her  fellow-crea- 
tures, and  was  greatly  afflicied  at-  the  errors,  follies 
and  vices  of  the  age  in  which  Ihe  lived.  She  was  pe- 
culiarly pained  to  obferve  that  many  who  called  them- 
felves  Chriflians,  induli^ed  fuch  principles  and  prac- 
tices as  were  grofsly  difhoncrable  to  their  facred  pro- 
ieHion,  and  fuch  as  while  they  looked  with  a  fad  af- 
peft,  on  their  own  falvation,  were  dire611y  calculated" 
to  fruftrate  that  of  others.  In  her  neareft  approaches 
to  her  God,  (he  lamented  thefe  evil-s,  and  earneftly 
implored  their  fuppreirion.  Her  zeallikewife  impart- 
ed to  her  a  courage  and  difcretion  above  her  years>  in 
endeavoring  to  benefit  the  fouls  of  thofe  with  whom 
Ihe  converfed,  by  pious  inllruc^ions  and  counfels,  and 
iaithful,  though  friendly  reproofs. 

About  two  years  before  her  death, happening,  amid 
her  foliiary  walks  for  meditation,  to  enter  the  church- 
yard, and  indulging,  as  (he  refted  herfelf  in  the  porch, 
thofe  contemplations  which  the  fcene  fuggefted,  fhe 
felt  a  fudden  and  itrong  impredion  that   Ihe   fhouLd 

iliortly^ 


Miss  Ann  Baynard.  1^7 

ihortly  die,  and  find  her  grave  in  that  place.  This. 
Imprc'flion,  which  never  left  her  till  the  event  a6lually 
occurred,  imparted  no  horror,  and  little  melancholy, 
to  her  mind.  On  the  ccntrary,  (lie  felt,  from  that 
time,  a  peculiar  attachment  to  the  place,  and  made  it 
the  fcene  of  her  freq'jent  retirements. 

Mr.  Prude,  the  minifter  of  the  place  in  which  (he 
lived,  fpeaks  very  highlv,  in  her  funeral  fermon,  of 
her  piety  and  accompliihments  ;  while  he  laments-it 
as  his  infelicity,  that  he  knew  her  no  longer  time  be- 
fore fhe was  remiCv^d  from  our  world.  '*  I  fhould 
oiherwife,"  he  remarks,  **  have  learned  much  more 
fr.';m  her  :  I  fhould,  as  the  wife  man  fpeaks,  have  at- 
tended to  her  v/ifdom,  and  bowed  my  ear  to  her  under- 
flanding." 

In  another  part  of  his  difccnrfe,  he  cxpreires  hlm- 
felf  thus  :  '*  B?  pleafed  to  underfiand  that  fhe  defired 
ine,  on  her  death-bed,  tliat  I  would  exhort  all  young 
people  to  the  Ifudy  of  wifdom  and  knowledge,  ^s  the 
means  to  improve  their  virtue,  and  bring  them  to  tlis 
trueft  hajjpinefs.  And  this  I  think  I  cannot  do  bet- 
ter, than  in  the  words  which  were  taken  from  her 
own  mouth,  jnfl:  when  her  foul  was  hovering  on  her 
lips,  ready  to  take  wing  for  that  other  world.  Her 
words  were  thefc  : 

**  I  defire  that  all  youn.'^;  people  m.ay  be  exhorted  to 
the  pra6lice  of  virtue,  and  to  increafe  their  knowledge 
by  the  ftudy  of  philofophy,and  more  efpccially  to  read 
the  great  book  of  nature,  wherein  they  may  fee  the 
wifdom  and  power  of  the  great  Creator  in  the  order 
ot  the  univerfe,  and  .in  the  prcduclion  and  preferva- 
tion  of  all  thint^s.  It  will  fix  in  their  minds  a  love  to 
lo  much  perfe<Elion,  frame  a  divine  idea  and  an  awful 
regard  of  Qod,  which  will  heighten  devotion,  lower 
the  fpirit  of  pride,  and  give  a  habit  and  difpofition  to 
his  fervice.  It  will  make  us  tremble  at  folfy  and  pro- 
fanenefs,  and  command  reverence  and  proflration  to 
lis  grcAt  an,d  holy  name. 

«*  That 


3l8B  Memoirs  of 

'*  That  women  are  capable  of  fuch  improvements 
as  will  better  their  judgments  and  underltandings,  is 
paft  all  doubt,  would  they  attempt  it  in  earned:,  and 
ipend  but  half  of  that  time  in  ftudy  and  thinking, 
•which  they  do  in  vifits,  vanity  and  folly.  It  would 
introduce  a  compofure  of  mind,  and  lay  a  folid  bafis 
for  wifdom  and  knowledge,  by  which  they  v/ould  be 
enabled  to  ferveGod,  and  benefit  mankind." 

The  following  concife  chara6ler  of  this  young  lady 
is  given  by  Mr.  Collier  in  his  hifiorical  Dictionary. 
*<  Ann  Baynard."  fays  he,  **  for  her  prudence,  piety 
andlearning,defervestohave  her  memory  perpetuated  ; 
being  not  only  well  (killed  in  the  learned  languages, 
but  in  all  manner  of  literature  and  philofophy,  with- 
out vanity  or  afFeciation.  Her  vvx-rds  v/ere  few,  well- 
chofen,'and  expreflive.  She  was  feldom  {ttr\  to  fmile, 
being  rather  ot  a  referved  andbtoical  difpotltion,  theic 
dodrine,  in  mod  parts  feeming  agreeable  toiler  natu- 
ral temper  ;  for  ilie  never  read  or  fpake  of  the  Stoics, 
but  v/ith  delight.  She  had  a  great  contempt  of  the 
world,  efpeciaily  of  the  finery  and  gaiety  of  life.  She 
had  a  great  regard  and  veneration  for  the  facred  name 
of  God,  and  made  it  the  whole  buHnefs  of  her  life  to 
promote  his  honor  and  glory.  The  great  end  of  her 
ihidy  was  to  encounter  Atheifts  and  Libertines,  as  may 
appear  from  fome  fatires  written  in  Latin,  in  which 
language,  fhe  had  a  great  readinefs  and  fluency  of  ex- 
preiTion." 

She  died  June  12,  1697,  at  the  age  of  twenty  five. 
On  a  fmall  monument  erecfed  to  her  m.emory,  is  a 
Latin  infcription  to  this  purpofe  : 

Moriahy  how  few  among  your  race 
Have  given  this  thought  its  weighty 

That  en  this  flying  moment  hangs 
T^ur  everlajVing  Jiaie  ! 

The 


Lady  Frances  Hobart.  189 

The  Right  PIonorable 
LADY   FRANCES   HOBART, 


I^HE  was  born  in  London  1603  i  the  elded 
of  eight  daughters  ot  the  Earl  of  Bridgwater.  She 
v/ascarefully  inftru6led  in  reading,  writing,  accompts, 
Beedle-work,  family  affairs,  mufic  vocal  and  inftru- 
mental,  and  among  other  things,  in  tlie  French  lan- 
guage, which,  having  her  organs  of  fpeech  formed  to 
k  in  childhood,  fhe  pronounced  with  an  accuracy  at- 
tained by  few  of  her  nation. 

In  her  education,  the  principal  thing  was  not  omit- 
ted. She  was  thoroughly  inffcrudlied  in  the  principles 
of  religion  \  and  this  partly  by  the  alfiduity  of  hei* 
Father,  whom  fhe  often  mentioned  with  honor  on  this 
account.  So  exactly  was  her  time  apportioned  to 
various  obje6ls  of  inftruction,  that  none  remained, 
excepting  a  fij^all  fpace  for  exercife,  and  the  hours 
allotted  to  fecret  and  family  devotion. 

In  her  youth,  fhe  was  frequently  at  the  court  of 
King  James,  and  was  in  great  favor  with  the  Qiieen. 
On  this  period  ot  her  life,  fbe  often  reflected  with  pain  ; 
condemning  her  m  fimprovement  of  precious  iime,ef- 
pecially  the  Lord's  day  ;  and  with  equal  franknefs 
commending  one  of  her  fillers  who  had  a  juft  fenfe 
of  the  error  of  fuch  a  conduct,  and  courage  enough  to 
refill  the  temptaticf^s  to  it. 

Her  foul  early  appeared  to  be  formed  for  fomething 
nobler  than  viiitS;,  ceremonies  ^ad  amufements.  Dif- 
R  'pofi  lions 


igo  Memoirs  of 

pofitlons  of  ferioufnefs  and  religious  eontemplatioh 
difcovered  themfelves  in  her  in  childhood,  at  which 
period,  (he  took  great  pleafure  in  reading  Mr.  Dod's 
expofitlon  of  the  Commandments,  and  was  peculiar- 
ly delighted  withthofe  minifters  whofe  dodlrines  were 
moil:  ferious,  and  whofe  lives  moft  pure  and  holy. 
But  (he  ever  attributed  the  change  of  her  heart  to  the 
blefling  of  God  on  the  preaching  of  Mr.  Carter  of 
Norwich  :  and  her  fubfequent  life  afforded  ample  ev- 
idence of  the  genuinenefs  of  her  converfion. 

She  was  married  to  Sir  John  Hebart,  a  perfon  of 
amiable  difpofitions  :  and  in  the  relations  of  wife, 
mother,  and  miftrefs  of  a  family  of  fervants,  exhib- 
ited a  remarkable  portion  of  virtue  and  difcretion. 

On  the  fubje6l  of  chaftity,  fhe  judged  it  not  enough 
to  be  unimpeachable,  unlefs  fhe  were  likewife  above 
fu fpicion.  Her  deportment, though  affable,  was  guard- 
ed by  a  purity,  and  a  dignified  gravity,  which  com- 
manded refpe6l  and  awe,  even  from  the  gay  and  un- 
principled. 

To  her  hulhand,  fhe  was  rerpe6lful  and  afrlidlon- 
ate,  making  his  interefl:,  his  joys  and  affedions,  her 
own.  Finding  him  en.cumbered  with  a  heavy  debt,  fhe 
by  prudently  managing  his  ellate,  and  perfonaliy  au- 
diting all  his  accounts,  expunged  feveral  thoufand 
pounds  of  it. 

In  the  fevere  indifpofitioRs  with  whkhhe  was  vlf- 
ited  from  the  time  of  their  marriage,  Ihe  was  a  moft 
tender,  fympathetic,  indefatigable nurfe.  In  the  moft 
trying  periods  of  his  diforder,  fhe  confined  herfelf  to 
his  chamber,  feldom  leaving  him  an  hour,  unlefs  for 
refrefhment,  or  for  fecret  or  public  devotion.  At 
night,'fhe  watched  with  him  fo  conftantly,  that  all  a- 
bout  her  wondered  that  her  flender  frame  could  bear 
the  fatigue  ;  as  flie  feldom  took  any  reft  till  two  or 
three  o'clock  in  the  morning,  and  then  on  an  ordinary 
couch  in  his  chamber,  where  fhe  m.ight  hear  every 
gro^n,  and  be  at  hand  to  rer.der  every  pofTible  relief. 


Lady  Frances  Hobart.  igt 

She  was  no  lefs  his  help-meet  in  things  pertaining. 
to  the  foul  and  eternity.  From  the  experience  which 
he  had  of  her  excellence  in  this  refpeft,  he  was  accuf» 
tomed  to  give  her  the  familiar  appellation  oi  his  dear 
faint.  No  fooner  had  God  wrought  a  change  in  her 
own  heart,  than  the  everlafting  interells  of  the  friend 
of  her  bofom  became  a  fubjed  of  the  moH:  tender  fo- 
licitude.  By  her  prudent  admonitions,  and  pathetic 
entreaties,  he  was  recovered  from  the  vanities  of  youth, 
fo  as  to  abhor  the  things  in  which  he  had  delighted, 
and  to  find  pleafure  in  thofe  ways  of  God  to  which  he 
was  formerly  a  ftranger.  He  now  not  only  took  fat- 
isfadion  in  the  exercifes  and  duties  of  religion,  but 
became  a  monitor  to  his  friends,  and  faithfully  repro- 
ved in  others,  efpecially  his  fervants,  the  faults  he  had 
once  pracli fed.  In  fhort,  by  the  bleliing  of  God  on 
the  public  preaching  of  the  word,  and  the  pious  pains 
of  his  lady,  he  appeared  not  only  externally  reform- 
ed, but  internally  fancfified  ;  exhibiting  at  death, 
and  long  before,  many  happy  evidences  ot  a  Chriftian 
hope  and  flate. 

Of  nine  children  whom  God  gave  her,  one  only 
furvived  to  adult  age  ;  and  (he  deceafed  feveral  years 
before  her  excellent  mother.  While  they  were  in- 
dulged to  her,  fhe  fpared  no  pains  in  endeavoring  to 
form  them  to  every  thing  virtuous  and  excellent :  nor 
were  her  attempts  unattended  with  indications  of 
fuccefs. 

Her  treatment  of  her  domeftics  was  at  once  pru- 
dent, affedionate  and  dignified.  I  n  the  choice  of  them, 
fhe  ever  preferred  thofe  who  exhibited  evidences  of 
fobriety  and  the  fear  of  God,  Though  in  this  refped, 
fhe  was  fometimes  deceived,  her  diligent  infpection 
and  careful  difcipline  of  her  family  corrected  the  er- 
ror :  nor  did  fhe  fufFer  any  to  continue  with  her,whom 
fhe  found  grofsly  and  incorrigibly  wicked. 

She  not  only  provided  amply  for  the  maintenance 
•f  her  fervants,  but  beftowed  peculiar  concern  ou 

their 


joa  Memoirs  of    ' 

their  fouls.  She  had  a  minifter  In  her  family,  who 
r.ot  only  prayed  with  it  thrice  a  day,  but  expounded 
the  fcriptures,  repeated  fermons,  efpecially  on  Lord's 
days,  and  catechized  the  fervants.  To  render  this  laft 
exercife  more  acceptable  to  thofe  for  vvhofe  benefit  it 
•v^'as  principally  defignedjfhe  prevailed  with  her  daugh- 
ter to  join  with  them.  When  by  ficknefs  fhe  was 
difabied  from  attending  the  prayers  of  the  family  in 
ihe  ufual  place,  fhe  transferred  them  to  her  own  cham- 
ber. 

After  her  hufband's  difeafe,  fhe  prevailed  on  ths 
fame  pious  minifter  to  continue  with  her  ;  and  that 
ihe  might  extend  the  advantage  of  his  inftru^lions  as 
far  as  polTible,  (he  converted  fome  lefs  ufeful  rooms  of 
her  houfe  into  a  chapel  which  could  accoinmodate  more 
than  two  hundred  perfons.  Here  he  preached  a  lec- 
ture every  w^eek  ;  and  on  every  Lord's  day  evening, 
repeated  the  ferm^ons  (or  one  of  them)  which  he  had 
delivered  in  the  day.  This  exercife  v^as  continued 
for  fixteen  hears,  to  a  full  auditory,  with  great  advan- 
tage to  many  young  perfons,to  whom  it  was  blell:  as 
the  mean  of  their  firit  acquaintance  with  God  and  re- 
ligion. 

Thus,  and  in  many  other  ways,  was  (he  a  precious 
bledincr  to  the  place  in  v^hich  (lie  lived,  and  to  the 
•u'orld.''  Very  few  in  any  age,  have  m.ore  cxadly  re- 
alized the  defcription  given  by  the  Apoflle,  of  ^  w/- 
^ozv  indeed  (i  Tim.  v.  5,  6,  10.)  She  lived tiof  in  pie a^ 

t\.ys fhe  trvfied  in  God,  and  continued  in  JufpUcations 

nr]dpra'jers,''yiight  and  day (he  zr^7j-  ivell  reported  of 

for  good  %uor'ks  — lodged  flrangers-  relieved  the  afflitled 
.—and  diligently  followed  every  good  work. 

She  was  far  from  w^a(iing  her  precious  tims  in  un- 
r.ecelTary  fleep,  or  banquets,  or  amufements,  or  infig- 
iiificant  vlfits.  What  (he  could  fpare  from  other  ne- 
ceifarv  duties,  (he  employed  either  in  the  exercifes  of 
religion,  private  or  public,  or  in  fuch  vifits  as  gave 
her  opportunity  either  of  doing  or  receiving  good.    Ir 

10  V 


Lady  Frances  Hobart.  193 

rfie  made  any  other,  they  were  rather  her  burden  than 
her  pleafure,  and  fubmitted  to  in  acknowledgment 
of  the  civilities  of  others.  She  feldom  fpent  half  aa 
hour  either  at  dinner  or  fupper  ;  and  both  ate  and 
drank  fo  fparingly,  as  to  afford  a  ftrikingdemondra- 
tion  how  little  is  necelTary  to  fupply  the  demands  of 
nature.  She  was  fo  far  from  affecting  an  expen- 
five  ftyle  of  drefs,  that  for  fome  time  after  the  lols 
of  her  hufband,  ftie  declined  wearing  fo  much  as  a 
filk  gown  ;  and  this,  that  fhe  might  have  the  more 
to  beftow  on  the  poor.  If  at  any  time  (lie  met  with 
an  object  of  charity  that  required  a  greater  relief  thaa 
confifted  with  her  prefent  convenience,  fhe  would 
anfwer  the  complete  demand,-  faying,:  *  it  was  but 
wearing  a  gown  two  or  three  months  longer.' 

Till  fome  fewyears  before  her  death,  when  increaf- 
ing  infirmities  neceditated  a  departure  from  her  chofen 
plan,  the  manner  in  which  Ihe  fpent  her  time,  may 
be  thus  defcribed.  She  was  feldom  in  bed  after  four 
o'clock  in  the  morning.  Jrom  the  hour  fhe  rofe,  till 
feven,  Ihe  fpent  her  time  in  clofet  meditation  and  de- 
votion. Then  fhe  came  out  to  the  duties  of  the  fam- 
ily, which,  including  prayer,  reading  and  expounding 
the  fcriptures,  &c.  occupied  fomerhing  more  than  an 
hour.  Thence  till  noon,  Ihe  employed  her  time  in 
her  chamber,  in  dreffing,  reading,  infpe6ling  her 
account?,  &c.  andfometimes  in  a  vvalk  of  half  an  hour. 
At  noon,  llie  again  attended  prayer  in  her  family,  in 
which,  and  in  dinner  and  converfation  afterward,  (he 
generally  fpent  two  hours  ;  fometimes  devoting  half 
an  hour  in  addition,  to  exercife.  Her  afternoon  was 
employed  in  reading,  or  making  vifits,  (chiefly  to 
Chrirtians  with  whom  (h^  was  intimate]  or  fometimes, 
in  fpinning  or  fewing  with  her  maids.  About  fix, 
{lie  returned  to  family  duties,  in  which,  at  fupper,  and 
difcourfe  after  it,  fhe  ordinarily  fpent  iliree  hours,  and 
then  withdrew  to  her  cloftit,  where,  for  m.any  years, 
ihe  read  and  prayed  till  twelve  or  one  o'clock.  Tlie 
^2,  ^  Litter 


194  Memoirs  of 

latter  part  of  her  life,  {he  was-  prevailed  on  by  her 
phyfician,  to  curtail  an  hour  or  tvvQ  from  thefe  late 
exercifes.  Thus  fhe  led  a  life  mortified  to  all  world- 
ly delights,  and  drew  her  pleafures  only  fcom  com- 
niunion  with  God  and  his  people  ;  exercifing  as  great 
feverity  to  herfelf,  as  many  who  imagine  that  fuch  a 
difcipline  will  purchafe  heaven. 

It  was  no  lefs  true  of  her,  that  Hie  irujled  In  God  ; 
jf  an  ardent  love  to  his  word  and  ordinances,  freedom 
from  diftrading  cares,  afFeftionate  adherence  to  him^ 
fear  of  offending  him,  and  hope  in  his  mercy,  are  ev- 
idences of  fuch  a  truft.  Her  value  for  the  word  of 
God  was  moft  remarkable.  She  was  rarely  found  a- 
lone,  without  her  bible  before  her.  She  drew  up  fo»: 
herfelf  a  method  of  reading  the  fcriptiire^,  to  which 
jfhe  {iri£lly  adhered  ;  fo  that  every  year  flie  read  the 
New  Teftament  thrice,  the  Pfalms  twelve  times,  and 
the  other  parts  of  the  Old  Teftament  once.  She  fur- 
nifhed  herfelf  v*'ith  a  large  library  of  Englifli  divines, 
which  (he  conflantly  ufed  :  and  this  principally  for 
the  explanation  of  the  fcriptures.  While  in  health, 
fhe  was  unwearied  in  her  attendance  on  fermons  ; 
preferring  fuch  as  opened  the  truths  of  God  with  the 
greateft  life,  and  fulleft  evidence  from  fcripture.  Be- 
ilde  three  fermons  on  the  Lord's  day,  flie  generally 
heard  three  or  four  in  the  week. 

She  v/as  indeed  exerclfed  with  doubts  and  jealoufies 
concerning  herfelf :  **  but  thefe,"  fays  her  miniftcr 
and  hiftorian,  *'vv^ere  rather  evidences  for,  than  a-. 
gainfl  her.  I  have  feen  her,"  he  adds,  **  in  great 
agonies  and  confli£ls,  and  almoft  refufing  to  be  fatis- 
fied  ;  but  could  never  find  that  they  argued  more  than 
an  earned  thirfting  after  farther  evidences  of  divine 
]ove  than  it  pleafed  God  for  fomiC  time  to  vouchfafe 
her.  She  v/as'  pofiefred  indeed  of  a  noble  efiate  ;  and 
fo  had  not  the  farre  temptations  as  others,  to  diflruft- 
ful  cares  for  the  things  of  this  life.  Yet  fo  far  as  (lie 
could,  Ihc  exercifed  this  ad  of  faith  ,  never  caring  for 

to-morrow. 


.     Lady  Frances  Hobart.  tg^ 

to-morrow,  but  freely  fpendlng  her  whole  revenue  (that 
part  of  it  I  mean  which  (lie  could  fpare  from  the  fru- 
gal expenfes  of  her  houfehold)  in  pious  and  charitable 
works ;  profefTing  that  fhe  defired  no  more  than  to  make 
her  account  of  receipts  and  difburfcments  even  at  the 
year's  end.  Her  love  to  God  was  very  great,  whether 
\ve  view  it  in  the  fecret  motions  of  her  foul,  or  in 
more  imperate  acf  s.  What  fighs,  what  heart-break- 
ing fadnefs,"  continues  the  hiftorian,  **havel  beerl 
■witnefs  to,  when  flie  lay  at  any  time  under  appreheii- 
fions  of  divine  defertion,  or  any  fufpicion  of  the  truth 
of  grace  in  her  own  heart  !  What  tears,  in  fuch  dark 
hours,  have  I  feen  flow  from  her  eyes  in  her  clcfet  ! 
What  groans  have  I  heard  from  her  while  we  havs 
been  praying  1 — On  the  other  fide,  if  at  any  time  fhe 
could  lay  hold  on  any  good  word  of  God,  or  if  fhe 
found  more  freedom  of  fpirit,  or  felt  what  fhe  judged 
an  eiBux  of  divine  love  upon  her  foul,  what  a  cheertul- 
nefs  did  we  all  the  day  fee  in  her  countenance!  What 
freedom  did  we  difcern  in  her  converfe  !  It  was  not 
hard  from  the  obfervation  of  her  converfe  and  coun- 
tenance through  the  day,  to  judge  how  it  had  fareJ 
with  her  fpirit  in  her  addrefTes  toGod  in  the  morning. 
Her  dread  ofGod  was  great.  I  have  fometimes  trembled 
to  hear  with  what  earneflnefs  flie  would  adjure  mc  to 
be  faithful  to  her  in  the  bufmefs  of  her  foul,  and  not 
to  fufter  fin  to  refl  upon  her.  Her  fear  indeed  was  for 
fome  time  too  fervile,  favoring  too  much  of  the  fpirit 
of  bondage  ;  but  it  was  afterward  more  conftantly  fil- 
ial ;  in  all  things  difcovered  by  a  reverential  fenfe  of 
thcv great  and  glorious  Majerty  of  God,  and  a  dread  of 
"wilfui  finning  againft  him. 

Her  love  to  miniflers  and  other  Chridians  was  dif- 
tinguillied.  She  had  not  only,  like  the  Shunamitc, 
prepared  a  table^  a  bed^  and  a  candlefxicky  for  the  fer- 
vants  of  God  who  palled  that  way  \  but  like  L-ydia^ 
fhe  would  befeech  them.,  that  if  they  judged  her  taith- 
ful,  they  would  come  to  her  houfe.    She  fet  apart  one 

chamber^ 


tg6  Memoirs  oi^ 

chamber,  to  which  fhe  gave  the  name  of  the  mintjler'i 
chamber.  She  highly  prized  every  diligent  and  pious 
minifter  of  her  acquaintance,  and  that  for  his  work's 
fake  ;  while  fhe  no  lefs  difefteemed  the  indolent,  and 
fuch  as  by  their  lives  difhonored  their  do6lrine  and  func- 
tion. It  was  calculated  by  one  who  well  knew  her^ 
that  (he  conrtantly  fpent  a  fourth  part  of  her  income 
upon  good  minifters,andChri{tiansot  the  poorer  clafs=, 
What  fhe  did  of  this  kind,  fhe  did  nobly  ;  for  God 
gave  her  a  large  heart,  and  an  open  hand.  She  often 
lodged  flrangers,  relieved  them,  and  wafhed.,  if  not 
their  feet,  yet  their  wounds.  Her  coach  was  frequent- 
ly feen  waiting  for  her  at  the  doors  of  the  poor,  and 
jfhe  never  thought  it  could  be  difgraced  by  a  Chrilli- 
an  cottage.  When  fome  in  very  low  circumflancesj 
yet  of  great  piety  and  experience  in  the  ways  of  God^ 
have  been  lying  on  beds  of  aflli(5lion,  fhe  would 
fcarce  be  two  days  abfent  from  them  :  nor  did  fhe 
think  any  time  too  long  to  fpend  with  them.  She 
frequently  faid,  fhe  believed  that  love  conftrained 
equally,  if  not  more,  in  fpiritual,  than  in  natural  re- 
lations. When,  in  her  gloomy  hours,  fhe  wanted 
fuch  evidences  of  grace  as  fhe  wiflied,  fhe  would  de- 
rive relief  from  this  confideraticn  ;  that  if  St.  John's 
argument  was  infallible,  IVeknow  that  we  have paffed 
from  death  to  life,  hecauje  we  love  the  brethren  ;  file 
flill  had  a  ground  of  hope  ;  for  that,  if  her  h.art  did 
not  ftrangely  deceive  her,  fhe  truly  loved  them,  and 
that  becaufe  of  their  holinefs.  Her  compafTion  to  the 
pi-ordidnot  fpend  itfelf  in  an  empty-handed  vifitj 
2ior  in  mere  protefTions  of  pity,  but  fhe  many  ways 
refrefhed  their  hearts.  If  fhe  found  their  bodily  dif- 
tempers  threatening,  fhe  would  fend  her  ov/n  fkilful 
phyfician  to  them.  If  Ihe  found  them  in  fpiritual 
trouble,  fhe  fent  them  her  minifter.  She  put  her  own 
hands  to  the  Wounds  of  the  poor.  STie  fent  them  food 
from  her  own  table.  When  file  made  them  a  vi/it, 
ihe  would,  at  her  departure,  like  the  good  Samaritaij. 


Lady  Frances  Hobart*-  197 

in  the  gofpel,  take  money  out  of  her  purfe,  and  give 
it  to  nurfes,  charging  thenn  to  take  care  of  the  Tick 
perfon,  and  promifing  that  whatever  they  fpent  more^ 
file  would  repay  them.  In  a  word,  the  felf-denial 
manifefted  in  her  charity  to  the  fouls  and  bodies  of 
others,  was  the  juft  admiration  of  all  thoughtful  per- 
fons  in  the  place  where  God  had  fixed  her,  and  gained 
a.  tribute  of  love  and  refped  from  every  defcriptiori 
of  charadlers. 

Her  converfatlon  and  deportment  were  remarkably 
diftant  from  morofenefs.  Her  piety  taught  her  affa- 
bility, and  a  readinefs  to  do  good  to  all,  though  her 
delight  was  in  thofe  whom  fne  apprehended  dear  to 
God,  and  fne  was  moft  abundant  in  doinggood  to  fuch 
as  were  of  the  houfehold  of  faith.  Amidfl  all,  fne 
was  humble,  and  remarkably  unconcerned  about  the 
praifes  of  men.  So  much  was  this  the  cafe,  that  hav- 
ing exprefled,  in  her  lad  will,  her  wifli  that  her 
minifler  ffiould  preach  her  funeral  fermon,  (he  added s 
*<  I  defire  him  to  forbear  all  commendations  of  me,, 
a  vile,  fmful  creature." 

Her  lafi  ficknefs  was  adropfy,  and  continued  about' 
half  a  year.  It  found  her  iu  a  bkiTed  preparation  for 
her  change.  Her  work  %vas  fmifiied.  Her  houfe  and 
her  heart  were  fet  in  order.  She  had  little  to  do,  but 
to  be  ftill,  and  wait  for  the  falvation  of  God.  She 
had  fown  in  tears  before,  and  feemed  now  to  reap  in 
joy.  Her  death,  though  long  forefecn,  was  fomewhat 
fudden  at  lafl.  After  being  bereaved  of  her  fenfes 
and  fpeech  for  two  or  three  days,  ihe  quietly  fell 
alleep  on  the  evening  of  the  Sabbath,  Nov.  ay.  1664. 
*'  Thus  lived,  thus  died,"  fays  her  biographer,  *'  this 
twice  noble,  excellent  lady,  about  the  fixty-firri;  year 
of  her  age  ;  poffibly  the  brighteft  example  of  piety^ 
and  true'd  pattern  of  honor,  liberality,  temperance, 
humility  and  ccurtefy,  which  it  hath  pleafed  God  in 
this  laft  age  to  fliew  in  that  part  of  the  -world  where 
he  had  fj^^ed  her.     A  woman  indeed  not  without  hex 

infirmitiejs  } 


598  MexMOirs  of 

infirmities  ;  to  afTert  that,  were  to  difcharge  lief  ffoiv 
her  relation  to  human  nature  :  but  as  they  were  of 
no  reproachable  magnitude,  and  the  products  of  natu- 
ral temperature,  not  of  vitk)us  habits  ;  fo  they  were 
£0  much  outfhone  by  her  eminent  graces  and  virtues, 
as  that  a  curious  eye  could  hardly  take  notice  of  them. 
In  a  word,  none  ever  lived  more  d^^fired,  or  died  more 
tiniverfally  lamented  by  all  worthy  perfons  hi  th« 
city  of  Norwich." 


iw..  iiiiM   ■■  iiiiinii.li   riic ■i.-.M       iinar^Ml       .  I       ^        III  III        ■  1^ 

The  Right  Honorable    ' 
Lady  CATHARINE  COURTEN. 


I 


SHALL  not  undertake,"  fays  her  biogra-- 
pher,  Dr.  Gollinges,  "  the  complete  portraiture  of 
this  Lady  ;  partly  becaufe  the  circumftances  of  her 
lj)irth  and  education  were  much  the  fame  with  her 
elder  fifter's,  whofe  defcription  I  have  given  more 
fully  ;*  and  partly  becaufe  Ihe  was  not  known  to  me^ 
till  the  two  lafl:  years  of  her  life." 

In  April,  1650,  on  an  invitation  from  her  fifter, 
Lady  Frances  Hobart,  (he  camie  to  fpend  with  her 
the  retired  part  of  her  life.  Her  feafon  of  health  there 
was  fhort  ;  not  above  three  quarters  of  a  year.  The 
reft  of  her  days,  Ihe  might  rather  be  faid  to  be  dying, 
than  living.  During 

*  H^  li^as  ihe  original  writer  of  the  preceding  Vife> 


Lady  Catharine  Courten.         igf 

During  the  months  of  her  health,  ihe  was  remark- 
able  for  her  quiet,  cheerful   and  thankful   fubmiffion 
to  divine  Providence.       Few,  very    few,  have   beea 
exercifed  with    feverer  trials.       She    was  married  to 
William   Courten   Efq  ;   .a  gentleman  of  great  opu- 
lence ;  and  what  was  far  more  to  her,  found  in  hiin 
a  mod  tender  and  affeftionate  hufband.     Their  union 
and  happinefs    were  crowaed  with  a  numerous   ofF- 
fpring.     Thus  her  mountain  feemed  to  fland  ftrong  ; 
and  in  the  height  of  her  profperity,  fhe  was  ready  to 
izN.Jhe  fhould  never  he  moved.       But  it  was  not  long 
before  God  in  the  difpenfations   of  his  providence, 
hid  his  fa€e  from  her,  and  Jhe  was  troubled.     He  firft 
bereaved  her  of  children,  taking  away  one  after  anoth- 
er, till  only  one  fon  and  one  daughter  were  left.     He 
Dext  frowned  upon  her  hulban'd's  traffic  to  the  Indies, 
<ivery  fuccefiive   year   bringing  intelligence   of  fome 
great  iofs,  till  he  was  not  only  dripped  of  his  whole 
€ikte,  but  found  himfelf  involved  in  an   inextricable 
debt,  and   was    obliged  to  feek    refuge    in  a   foreign 
land.     Such  wasthe'defolatc  and  alHiaed  condition  of 
this  worthy   woman — bereaved    of  children,  of  fub- 
ilance,  of  her  beloved  hufband-and  call  on  the  chari- 
ty of  her  friends.     Yet  (}je  charged  not  God  foolijhly. 
She  acknowledged  that  the  Lord  had  given,  and  taken 
mvay  ;  and  ^i^ bkjjed  his  holy  name.       With  a  meek 
and  quiet    fpirit  fhe  fubmitted   to  her  heavy    trials, 
holding  her  peace,  becaufe  they  were   the  allotment  of 
that  Being  who  Ihe    felt  had    an  infinite    right    to  do 
%\'ith  her  and  hers  as  he  pleafed.     She  was  even  fiHcd 
with  admiration  of  the  goodnefs  of  (jod,  in  difponng 
the  hearts  of  her  friends  to  fhew  kindnefs  to  her,  and 
to  her  children,  in  their  diftrefled    date.       Her  fenfe 
of  his  great  mercy  feemed  to  abforb  and  triumph  over 
her  grief.    She  was  often  heard  to  fay,  that  *  Ihe  now 
faw    more  of  the  goodnefs   of  God  in  a   fmgle   ten 
pounds  which  a  friend  fent  her,  (and  could  better  ac- 
knowledge it)  than  fhe  did  before,  in  the  many  thou- 
^      ^  lands 


20O  Memoirs  of 

fands  which  weigher  own.'  And  when,  after  all 
thtfe  humbling  and  emptying  difpenfations,  it  pleaf- 
cd  a  fovereign  God  to  lay  his  hand  upon  her  frame, 
and  vifit  her  with  a  tormenting  and  incurable  difeafe, 
fhc  put  her  hand  upon  her  mouth,  and  not  only  ac- 
knowledged the  juitice,  but  admired  the  mercy  of  her 
heavenly  Father,  if  at  any  time,  He  was  pleafed  to 
give  her  a  refpite  from  her  agonizing  pains,  her 
tongue  feem.ed  incapable  of  exprefling  the  ihankful- 
jiefs  of  her  fpirit.  Praife  waited  in  her  grateful  foul 
for  her  God.  **  Sometimes  indeed,"  fays  Dr.  Col- 
linges,  **  I  faw  her  troubled  at  God's  more  external 
difpenfations  to  her,  and  that  to  a  degree  beyond  what 
might  be  called  a  jiill  fenfe  of  them.:  but  upon  dif- 
courfing  with  her,  I  conftantly  found  the  caufe  was 
either  a  bitter  refie6lion  on  the  influence  v/hich  the 
fad  providence  of  God's  blading  her  dear  hufband's 
eftate,  had  upon  many  other  perfons  and  families, 
which  fhe  could  never  think  on  without  tears,  and 
which  fhe  often  declared,  troubled  her  more  than  her 
own,  her  hulband's  and  children's  concerns  ;— or  elfe 
fome  fears  (wrought  in  her  by  the  advantage  her  fub- 
til  adverfary  took  of  her  affli6led  (fate)  le(t  the  rod  of 
God  was  an  indication  of  his  wrath,  the  dread  of 
which  trowbled  her  infinitely  more  than  her  low  con- 
dition as  to  the  comforts  of  life,  upon  which  the  Lord 
had  taught  her  to  fet  a  very  cheap  eftimate.  Indeed, 
it  hath  often  (lartied  me,"  fays  the  Doctor,  "  to  fup- 
pofe  my  foul  in  her  foul's  (lead,  and  to  think  what  I 
ihouid  have  been  under  fuch  difpenfations  as  it  pleafed 
God  to  meafure  out  to  her,  but  which  Ihe  embraced 
"with  meeknefs  and  cheerfulnefs." 

Another  thing  eminently  confpicuous  in  this  lady, 
was  her  great  tcndernefs  of  confcience,  and  watchful 
jealoufy  over  her  own  heart.  *^  It  would  have  made 
a  good  Chridian  fufpecl  himfelf,"  fays  her  hiiiorian, 
**  to  have  feen  her  fcrupulofity  of  every  a6lion,  and 
how^  afraid  Ihe  was  of  ihe  leaft  fin  againft  God.    She 

cftea 


Lady  Catharine  Courten.  £oi 

rJien  difcovereJ  to  me,  as  I  lived  with  her  under  the 
lame  roof,  the  ftate  of  her  foul  ;  what  fhe  found,  what 
Oie  wanted,  what  fhe  refolved  on,  what  grievances 
and  what  comforts  flie  at  any  time  experienced  ;  but 
foarce  ever  did  it  without  adjuring  me  to  be  faithful, 
in  telling  her  vfhat  I  judged  of  her  condition  in  refer- 
ence to  eternity.  Indeed  the  hearing  her  ftri(5^1y  cliarge 
me  not  to  flatter  her,  but  to  deal  faithfully,  hath  often 
made  me  tremble,  lell  through  temptation  or  weaknefs, 
J  lliould  fall  fliort  of  my  duty  to  her.  Indeed,  (lie  was 
over-jealous  ;  and  through  fear  of  fin,  would  fonic- 
times  hefjtate  in  regard  to  what  was  her  duty,  yea,  her 
greatefl:  duty.  How  often  did  I  hear  from  her  thefe 
words — "Oh!  Sir,  Satan  is  very  bufy.  He  would 
have  me  let  go  my  hold  of  my  dear  Savior  ;  but  I  am 
refolved  to  keep  it  till  I  die.  Sir,  may  I  not  ?  I  be- 
jTeech  you,  tell  me  if  you  think  I  may  not," 

Another  thing  obfervable  in  her,  Avas  her  Icvc  to 
public  ordinances.  With  the  royal  Pfalmift  file  could 
fay,  Hoiv  (iTniablc  are  thy  tabernacles ,  0  Lord  of  kojh  S 
To  enjoy  this  privilege,  was  her  great  motive  for  pre- 
ferring her  dear  fifler's  family,  as  the  place  of  her  re- 
cefs  ;  for  fhe  there  found  a  private  chapel  where  ilic 
could  attend  the  ordinances  of  God,  exempt  froin  the 
notice  of  the  world.  She  was  neither  abfent  from  any 
fermon,  nor  negligent  in  hearing  it.  When  unable, 
by  reafon  of  ficknefs,  to  go  down  flairs  herfelf,  fhe 
v/as  carried  down  by  others,  till  the  advice  of  her  phy- 
ficians  laid  a  reflraint  upon  her.  During  religious 
exercifes,her  afpe61:  and  poflure  difcovered  with  what 
reverence  and  trembling  fhe  heard  the  v^ord  of  God. 
She  indeed  received  it  as  His  ivord. 

Her  fecret  communion  with  God  was  not  Icfs  re- 
markable. Though  Ihe  wif]■l'^.d  it  to  be  Indeed  fecret, 
as  far  as  poflible,  yet  no  company  prevented  her  from 
being  punctual  to  her  hours  of  retired  prayer  \  and  in 
her  converiation  The  frequently  commended  it, as  that 
by  which  aChriltiancomes  bcli  to  undcrfiand  hi.sown 
s  heart. 


202  •  Memoirs  oy 

■heart.  It  was  eafy  for  thofe  who  conveiTed  witii 
her  when  (he  came  out  of  her  clofet,  to  determine  by 
her  countenance  and  difcourfe,  hovv  fae  had  been  em- 
ployed. She  fpent  much  time  in  prayer,  and  much  in 
reading  the  fcriptures,  and  other  in{lru<Elive  books  on 
religion,  together  with  notes  .which  fhe  had  taken  of 
fermons.  Nor  is  it  lefs  certain,  that  fhe  was  much 
employed  in  applying  what  flie  read,  and  exairiining 
]ier  heart  by  it. 

Another  excellence  obfervable  in  this  lady,  was  her 
tender  and  well-ordered  affe6Hon  to  her  neareli  rela- 
tives. Her  hiifoand's  and  her  children's  perfons Were 
exceedingly  dear  to  her  ;  but  the  falvation  of  their 
fouls  was  deareft  of^all.  None  could  have  known  by 
any  peculiar  deje6lion  of  her  countenance,  that  fhe 
was  a  woman  of  fuch  affliction^  had  not  the  recollec- 
tion of  the  exiled  Hate  of  her  beloved  hufband,  fre- 
quently interrupted  her  peace  and  ferenity.  There  was 
not  a  Chriftian  of  her  acvquaintance,  whofe  prayers 
Ihe  did  not  ear-neflly  defire  for  her  hufband  and  chil? 
dren.  When  fhe  apprehended  her  death  approaching^, 
ihe  fervently  reque(ted  her  minilter,  that  when  ihe  was 
BO  more,  he  would  never  ceafe  to  pray  for  her  huf- 
band, that  God  would  prefervc  him  from  the  tempta- 
tions and  pollutions  of  that  popilh  country  in  which 
liis  lot  was  caft ;  and  for  her  children,  that  Jefus  Chrift 
might  be  formed  in  them.  The  firft  wilh  of  her  heart 
for  her  children  was,  that  they  might  be  found  walk- 
ing in  the  truth,  and  pofleiTed  of  a  treafure  which  nei- 
ther moth  could  corrupt,  nor  thief  invade. 

She  was  remarkable  for  her  faithfulnefs  to  her 
friends  in  general.  This  faithfulnefs  Vv^as  manifefted 
3n  the.  performance  of  every  kind  office  in  her  power, 
in  {fudioufly  concealing  their  fecrets,  and  particularly, 
in  prudently  hinting  and  reproving  their  faults.  On 
this  fubjecl,  Ihe  did  not  fpare  her  nearetl  relatives  and 
friendsjhovvever  warm  v/ere  her  affedions  tovv'ard  them^ 
tv  however  numerous  the   obligations   under  which 

they 


Lady  Catharine  Courten".  203 

tney  had  laid  her.  She  rightly  judged  that  her  love  to 
them  was  bed  demonllrated,  and  her  obligations  beft 
difcharged,  by  benevolent;  honcfl  efforts  to  fave  their 
fouls  from  death. 

All  who  attentively  obferved  her,  were  witneiTes  at 
once  to  the  gravity,  and  the  innocent  cheerfulnefs  of 
her  converfation.  ..The  noblenefs  of  her  fpirit  difcov- 
cred  itfelf  in  a  f(veet  aiTability  and  courtcfy  of  behav- 
ior towards  all,  and  in  the  admifTibnof  perfons  far  be-- 
low  her  rank  to  a  great  freedom,  efpecially  if  they 
feared  God,  and  manifefted  an  experience  ot  his  good 
ways.  As  flie  v/as  endowed  with  a  deep  fagacity,  and 
with  imcommon  degrees  of  knowledge,  it  was  hcr 
conjlant  care  to  improve  them  to  the  glory  of  the  di- 
vine  Giver.  The  hours  flie  fpent  neiiher  in  herclofet, 
nor  in  public  ordinances,  which  were  not  many,  were 
iifually*GCCupled  v/ith  dilcourfe  tending  to  edification  : 
lior  was  (he  ever  more  in  her  element,  than  wdien,  in 
converfe  with  others,  ilie  was  inveftigaiing  fom.e  truth 
for  the  information  of  her  judgment,  or  the  guidance 
of  her  pra£lice.  She  was  impatier.t  at  hearing  what 
(lie  conceived  v/as  plainly  contrary  to  truth.,  or  what 
tended  to  countenance  the  leafi  fin  againft  God. 

During  the  moil  diftreffing  periods  of  the  diforder 
\vhich  feizcd  her  at  her  filler's  honfe,  and  even  after 
fhe  had  been  aluided  with  excruciating  p^iin  for  fevc- 
jal  days,  Ihe  difplaycd  a  wonderful  patience.  She 
kept  fafl:  hold  on  God,  faying,  amid  the  fevcrelt  attacks 
of  her  difeafe,  that  'the  Lord  was  her  hone,  that  (he 
clave  to  him,  and  wonld  not  let  iu'ui  go,  let  Gad  do 
what  he  pleafed  with  her,  and  Satan  fugged  v\hat  he 
could  againft  her.' 

About  four  days  before  her  difTolution,  her  pain 
fomewhat  abated.  The  day  immediately  preceding 
was  a  day  of  great  revival  to  her.  She  had  not  been, 
for  many  weeks,  fo  cheerful,  nor  fo  free  from  diftrefs. 
Her  miniller  coming  in  at  noon,  to  pr:^y  with  her,  fhe 
appeared  to  be  ever,  ravillied  with  a  i^nk  of  the  good- 

iicfs 


204  Memoirs  e? 

nefs  of  God  to  her,  in  granting  fome  relaxation  from 
her  agonies  ;  and  was  exceedingly  carneft  in  preffing 
him  to  praife  God  with  her,  and  for  her.  After 
prayer,  fhe  continued  very  cheerful  :  but  fuddenly  her 
minifter  perceived  her  take  his  hand,  and  manifeff  a 
defire  to  whifper  fcniething  in  his  ear.  As  fcon  as 
ihe  perceived  her  fifter's  back  turned,  and  the  reft  of 
the  company  out  of  hearing,  fhe  faid  to  him  :  **  I 
think  I  may  tell  you  (you  will  not  fpeak  of  it)  I  be- 
lieve I  am  very  near  my  Father's  houfe."  He  deter- 
iTiined  to  be  filent,  till  he  faw  the  ilTue  ;  and  the  more 
becaufe  fhe  feemed  to  him  further  from  death,  than 
ihe  had  appeared  at  any  time  for  fome  weeks  before. 
In  this  frame  (he  continued  the  remainder  of  the  day. 
In  the  evening,  he  found  her  very  cheerful,  and  able 
to  difcourfe  vsith  cafe  and  freedom.  But  it  fo  pleafed 
the  fovereign  Lord  of  life  and  death,  that  before  the 
3iext  morning,  her  fpirits  failed,  and  fhe  in  great  mea- 
iure  loft  her  fpeech.  She  expreifcd,  by  figns,  her  de- 
ilre  that  prayer  might  be  made  for  her.  Once  ftie  faid, 
Ifear;  and' by  and  by,  I  hope y  I  hope  ; — and  thus,- 
"withoutany  pain,  fo  far  as  could  be  difcovered,  ftie 
■\'ielded  her  foul  to  God,  oi\  the  twenty-fifth  day  o£ 
March,  1652. 

*_*  Thus,"  fays  her  hiftorian,  ^*  fhe  fought  the  good 
fight,  and  kept  the  faith,  and  hath  nov/  put  on  the 
crown  of  glory — beinL;  entered  into  the  actual  poftef- 
fion  and  beatific  fight  of  thofe  things  which  eye  hath 
not  feen,  nor  ear  heard,  nor  the  heart  of  man  concei- 
ved ;  even  the  things  whicli  God  hath  prepared  for 
thofe  who  love  him." 


Tas 


Lady  Cutts.  205 


The  Right  Honorabl 
LADY    CUTTS. 


T 


HOUGH  this  lady  died  young,  having- 
but  juR  paired  the  age  of  eighteen,  flie  was  continued 
long  enough  in  pur  world,  to  hold  forth  a  bright  ex- 
ample of  temale  excellence. 

The  foundation  of  her  characler  was  laid  in  flricc, 
unafFe6led  piety. 

Her  devotion  was  exemplary.  Morning  and  e- 
veningcame  not  more  conftantly  than  her  feafons  of 
fecret  prayer,  which  Ihe  obferved,  not  a>  a  matter  of 
formality  or  conftraint,  but  wilh  ardent  defire  and 
delight.  On  no  occafion  would  (he  difpenfe  with 
this  duty.  She  elleemed  it  her  great  honor  and  hap- 
pinefs  to  attend  upon  God  ;  and  Ihe  refolvtd  to  find 
leifure  for  this,  for  whatever  elfe  fbe  might  want  it. 

How  thefe  fecret  tranfac!:ions  between  God  and  Iter 
foul  were  conduced,  is  known  to  Him  alone  whom 
fhe  worfhipped.  But  if  one  might  judge  of  her  pri- 
vacies by  what  was  feen  of  her  in  public,  the  conclu- 
fion  muit  .be,  that  {he  was  full  of  humility,  devotion 
and  fervor  ;  for  fo  fhe  eminently  was  in  the  religious 
exerciles  of  God's  houfe..  There,  her  behavior  was 
mod:  devout  and  folemn,  yet  (hikingly  decent,  eal/ 
and  unaffeded.  It  was  throughout  fuch  as  declared 
itfelt'  nottlie  refult  of  the  paluons  merely,  but  to  flow 
from  an  underltanding  divinely  enlightened,  and  en- 
riched wiili  ftores  of  religious  knowledge. 

s  Z  "  This 


aoG  Memoirs  op- 

This  knowledge,  of  which  the  foundation  was  lafd 
by  the  bleiling  of  God  on  early  inftruftion,  was  much 
increafed  by  frequent  reading  and  meditation,  of 
which  from  childhood  (he  was  very  fond  ;  and  by  a 
tliiigent  attendance  on  public  fermons  ;  at  which  ex- 
ercifes,  fhe  was  all  attention,  all  ear.  She  kept  her 
heart  intenfely  fixed  on  its  holy  work,  by  keeping  her 
eye  from  wandering.  She  often  exprefled  her  dillat-- 
isfadlion  at  that  indecency  of  deportment  which  pre- 
vails in  alTemblies  for  public  worfnip  ;  and  wonder- 
ed that  thofe  Ibould  often  be  moft  carelefs  of  their  be- 
havior towards  God,  who  are  moft  fcrupulouily  nice 
in  exaclingand  paying  all  the  little  decencies  in  ufe 
among  men. 

When  the  bread  of  life  was  diftributed  from  the 
facramental  table,  fhe  never  failed  to  be  prefent.  On^ 
thcfe  occafions,  the  ftri^^nefs  of  her  attention,  and  the 
reverence  of  her  behavior,  were,  if  pofiibls,  raifed' 
and  improved. 

Books  were  her  delight  ;  efpecially  books  of  divin- 
ity and  devotion,  which  fhe  ftudied  and  reliOied  above 
all  others.  But  of  all  books,  the  book  of  God  was 
that  in  v/hich  ilie  was  moft  delighted  and  employed. 
It  Avas  never,  for  any  confiderable  time,  out  of  her 
hands.  She  knew  and  felt  its  great  ufe,  and  fweet  in- 
fluence in  calming  her  mind,  regulating  her  defires, 
and  lifting  up  her  thoughts  to  heaven  ;  in  feeding  and 
fpreading  that  holy  fiame  v/hich  the  love  of  God  had" 
'kindled  in  her  heart,  and  which  fhe  took  care,  by  thefe 
means,  to  keep  perpetually  ^burning. 

Wijen  fhe  met  with  any  thing  in  the  holy  Oracles, 
or  any  other  pious  book,  which  fhe  thought  would  be 
of  fpeclal  ufe  in  the  condu£l  of  her  life,  flie  trufted 
uot  her  memory  vviih  it.  though  it  was  fo  retentive 
that  Hie  fafely  trufted  it  with  things  of  fmaller  mo- 
ment ;  but  immediately  committed  it  to  writing.  Ma- 
afiy  fuch  obfervations  fhe  has  left  behind  her,  chiefly 
drawn  from  the  facred  pages,  and  equ.^lly  exhibiting 
her  piety  and  judgmeiu,  The 


Lady  Cutts.  207 

The  paflages  of  holy  writ  which  (he  noted,  were' 
generally  fuch  as  related  either  to  the  concerns  of  her 
fpiritiial  flate,  or  to  naatters  of  prudence  ;  but  flie  like- 
wife  fpent  no  inconfiderablepart  of  her  time  in  medita- 
ting on  thofe  paiTages  which  contain  the  fubiimeP: 
points  of  Chriftian  do£lrinc,  and  in  polTelling  her 
itiind  with  a  deep  fenfe  of  the  Wonderful  love  of  God 
to  man,  as  manifefted  in  the  myfterious  work  of  Re- 
dcmption.  She  endeavored  to  underftand  the  great  ar- 
ticles 01  Chri-flian  faith,  as  well  as  to  pradifethe  rules 
of  life  contained  in  the  gofpel  ;  and  (lie  fenfibly  found 
that  the  bed  way  to  be  excited  to  holy  duties,  was  to 
acquire  and  maintain  a  thorough  acquaintance  wiih 
evangelical  do6>rines. 

The  Lord's  thy  was  not  only  held  facred  by  her=-- 
felf,  but  in  her  family,-  wore  a  face  of  devotion  fuit- 
able  to  its  divine  dignity.  It  was  truly  a  day  of  reft 
to  all  under  her  roof.  Her  fervanis  were  difmiiTed 
from  a  great  part  of  their  attendance  on  her,  that  they' 
might  be  at  liberty  to  attend  on  that  Lord  and  Mader 
whom  fhe  and  they  were  equally  bound  to  obey.  There 
was  fuch  a  filence  and  folemnity  obfervedby  all  about 
her,  as  might  have  become  the  houfe  of  mourning  ; 
and  yet  fo  much  eafe  and  ferenity  were  vifible  (efpe- 
cially  in  herj  as  fhewed  that  they  who  were  in  the 
houfe  of  fealHng  vv^cre  not  better  fatisfied.  Thus  did 
file  prepare  for  the  enjoyment  of  that  perfect  reil,  the 
celebration  of  that  endlefs  fabbath,  on  which  fhe  was 
fo  foon  to  enter.  Thus  did  fhe  pracilife  on  earth  the 
duties,  the  dtvoiions,  the  culloms  and  manners  of 
heaver]. 

To  promote  her  progress  in  piety,  fhe  kept  an  ex- 
a(5l  journal  of  her  life,  in  which  fhe  re-corded  her  re- 
ligious experience,  and  the  various  ftate  and  temper- 
ament  of  her  foul. 

At  this  glafs  the  drefTed  her  mind  from  day  to  day. 
To  tliis  faithful  monitor  flie  frequently  repaired  for 
advice  ancl  diredion.     She  compared  the prefent  with 

the 


$iS    ^  Memoirs   o^' 

the  paft,  judged  of  what  would  hehy  what  had  beciii 
accurately  obierved  the  feveral  degrees  of  holinefs  fhe 
attained,  and  of  infirmity  fhe  furnnoiinted,  and  traced 
every  ftep  (he  took  in  her  way  to  heaven.  One  would 
have  thought  that  fo  much  cxafthefs  and  feserity  ia 
private,  would  have  infenfibly  wrought  itfcit  into  her 
general  deportment  andconverfe.  Yet  nothing  could 
be  more  free,  fimple  and  natural.  She  had  the  reali- 
ty, Vv'ith  little  oF  the  fhew,  oi  ftricSlnefs.  All  her  rules 
and  performances  fat  fo  well  upon  her,  that  they  ap- 
peared not  lefs  her  pleafure  than  her  duty.  In  the 
midft  of  them,  fhe  was  eafy  in  herf.lf,  and  a  delight 
to  all  around  her  ;  ever  cheerful,  but  calm  and  even, 
in  her  deportment.  Her  faiistadion,  like  a  deep, 
untroubled  ftream,  ran  on  without  any  of  that  vio- 
lence and  noife  in  Vvhich  the  fhallovveO:  pleafares 
fometimes  abound. 

Cheerful  and  agreeable  as  fhe  wa?,flie  never  carried 
her  good  humor  fo  tar  as  to  fmile  at  a  profane,  ill- 
natured,  or  indecent  jefl.  In  her  higheft  mirth,fucha 
liberty  made  her  remark3bly  grave  and  ferious.  She 
had  a  peculiar  delicacy  as  to  the  leaft  approaches  to 
fuch  faults  ;  and  ihevved  a  very  quick  fenlibility  at  any 
•th^ng  which  flruck  her  as  improper  either  for  herfelf 
to  fiear,  or  others  to  fpeak. 

True  piety,  which  principally  confifts  in  a  humility 
and  fubmillion  of  mind  toward  God,  is  ever  attended 
with  humility  2nd  goodnefs  toward  his  creatures.  So 
it  was  in  this  excellent  woman.  Never  was  there  a 
more  deep,  artlefs,  unfeigned  lowlintfs  of  mind  (ttn 
in  any  of  her  rank  and  flation.  Far  as  (he  was  raifed 
above  mod:  of  the  world,  (he  converfed,  as  it  were,  on 
a  level  wiih.all.  Yet  when  fne  (looped  lowed,  ihe 
preferved  her- dignity.  Indeed,  fo  much  merit  as  hers 
did  not  need  fear  being  familiar;  for  the  effed  of  fa- 
miliarity was,  that  being  better  known,  fhe  was  more 
loved  and  valued.  Not  only  none  of  her  inferiors 
came  uneafy  ffom  her,  but  none  v/ent  uneafy  to  her  ; 

fo 


Lady  Cuttsv  2b^ 

fo  confident  were  all  beforehand  of  the  fweetnefs  of 
her  temper,  and  an  obliging  reception.  When  fhe 
opened  her  lips,  gracious  words  proceeded  -hence, and 
inher  tongue  was  ttie  law  of  kindnefs.  Her  referve 
and  love  of  retirement  might  be  fometimes  mifinter- 
preted  as  the  indication  of  pride  and  felf-fatisfa6tion  ; 
but  the  leafl:  acquaintance  with  her  bani (lied  fuch  fuf- 
picions.  For  though  the  attra<^ions  both  of  her  per- 
Ion  and  mind  were  extraordinaryj  (he  ever  feemed  un- 
confcious  of  them.  Nor  was  any  one  miOre  dillant 
from  an  oftentatious  difplay  of  beauty  or  wit.  In-- 
deed,  it  was  a  difiinguifiiing  part  of  her  chara£ler, 
that  fhe  little  ftudied  appearance,  or  made  advances 
toward  the  good  opinion  of  the  world.  She  was  con- 
tented to  he  what  was  good,  without  taking  pains  to 
appear  (o  :  and  this>  not  from  an  aftccled  difregard  of 
public  efteem,  but  from  the  modeily  and  facility  oF 
her  difpofition,  which  induced  her  to  give  way  to  oth-- 
crs  who  were  more  willing  to  be  obferved.  Yet  (he 
had  alfo  her  hours  of  opennefs  and  freedom,  when  her' 
foul  poured  itfelf  into  the  bofoms  of  her  friends  and^ 
acquaintance  :  and  then,  out  of  the  good  treafure  of 
her  heart,  what  good  things  did  fhe  bring  forth!" 
With  what  delight  was  flie  liftened  to  by  thofe  who 
had  the  happinefs  to  converfe  with  her  !  So  that  it  is  a' 
doubt  whether  the  was  moft  to  be  admired  for  what 
fhe  faid,  or  for  what  fhe  did  not  fay.  It  was  won- 
derful that  one  who  could  converfe  with  fo  much  eafe" 
and  propriety,  fhould  choofe  to  be  fo  often  filent  :  and 
it  was  furprifiag  that  fuch  a  lover  of  filence  fhould,  • 
"whenever  Ihe  fpoke,  charm  all  who  heard  her. 

To  her  command  of  her  tongue,  fhe  added  a  firI6l 
and  watchful  guard  upon  her  pallions,  thofe  efpecially 
of  the  rough  and  troublefom^  kind;  with  which  fhe 
was  very  feldom  feen  difquieted.  She  fcarce  knew 
"what  the  diforders  of  anger  were,  even  on  occafions- 
that  might  feem  to  juftify,  if  not  to  require  it.  As- 
ai-uch  as  fhe  hated  vice^  fhe  chofe  rather  to  look  it  out- 

of 


216  Memoir's  of 

of  countenance,  than  to  be  fevere  againd  it  in  words y- 
and  rather  to  win  the  bad  to  the  fide  of  virtue  by  her 
example,  than  her  rebukes. 

Her  fweet  deportment  toward  thofe  who  were  in 
her  company  could  be  outdone  by  nothing  but  her  ten- 
dernefs  in  regard  to  the  abfent,  of  whom  ihe  thought 
and  fpoke  as  well  as  was  polTible.  If  iheir  characters 
were  plainly  bad,  (he  Ihewed  her  dillike  by  only  fay- 
ing nothing  of  them.  Neither  her  good  nature  nor 
her  religion  would  futFer  her  to  fpeak  reproachtully  of 
any.  She  thought  The  had  enough  of  that  kind  to  do  at 
home,  without  looking  abroad,  and  theretore  turned 
the  cdgQ  of  her  reflecStions  on  herfelf.  It  was  her  fet- 
tled opinion,  that  the  good  name  of  any  one  was  too 
tender  and  ferious  a  thing  to  be  played  with  ;  and  that 
it  was  a  foolifh  kind  of  m.irth,  to  fay  the  lead,  which, 
to  divert  fome,  hurt  others.  She  could  not  think  that 
the  only  thing  which  gave  life  and  fpirit  to  converfa- 
tion,  was  to  have  fomebody's  faults  for  the  fubje£l  ; 
or  that  the  pleafure  of  a  viiit  lay  in  giving  up  the  com- 
pany alternately  to  one  anoilier's  fport  and  malice. 

With  all  this  gentlenefsand  meeknefs  ot  difpofition, 
fhe  had  a  degree  of  fpirit  and  firmnefs  unufual  in  her 
fbx  ;  and  was  particularly  obferved  to  have  a  wonder- 
ful prefence  of  mind  in  any  occurrence  of  danger. 

The  purity  of  her  mind  banilhed  her  from  mod  of 
the  public  entertainments.  She  thought  that  no  degree 
of  wit  or  humor  could  make  amends  for  what  was 
■wounding  to  the  ear  of  chaftiry.  She  apprehended 
ihat  thefe  qualities  rendered  the  poifon  more  palata- 
ble, and  therefore  more  to  be  dreaded.  She  had  nei- 
ther relifli  nor  leifure  for  fuch  entertainments,  nor 
for  a  thoufand  other  things  v/hich  tie  world  mifcals 
pleali-res.  Not  that  ihe  wanted  a  tafte  for  intelle6fual 
gratification  :  but  her  thoughts  were  fo  much  engroff- 
ed  by  fubjeds  important  and  ufeful,  and  fhe  was  fo 
devoted  to  the  improvement  of  her  heart  and  life,  as- 
well  as  her  underitanding,   that   what  was  merely  a-. 

xnufingj 


Lady  Cutts.  2if 

{•fiiifing,  was  to  ber  at  befl  indifferent,  and  often  tircr 
fome  and  difgufting. 

She  did  not  think  it  the  peculiar  privilege  of  the 
great  to  have  nothing  to  do,  but  took  care  to  fill  e very- 
moment  ot  life  with  fome  ufeful  or  innocent  employ- 
ment. The  feveral  hours  of  the  day  had  their  peculr 
iar  bufinefs  allotted  to  them,  ei'ber  converfaiion,  ^or 
work,  or  reading,  or  domeiUc  affairs,  each  ot  which 
came  up  regularly  in  its  -turn,  and  was  beautiful  in  tit 
Jeafon. 

Yet  her  regularity  was  free  from  formality  and 
conftraint.  If  any  accident  intervened,  it  was  inter- 
rupted with  as  much  eafe  as  it  was  ordinarily  pra6tif- 
ed  :  for  one  of  her  difcretionary  rules  was,  to  i'eem  to 
have  none,  and  to  make  thofe  which  Ihe  eftabliflied  for 
her  general  government  give  way  to  particular  cir- 
cumdances  and  occafions. 

She  often  wrought  with  her  ov/.n  hands  when  flic 
could  have  employed  her  time  more  pleafantly  and 
profitably  in  reading  or  meditation  ;  but  Ihe  was  wil- 
ling to  fet  the  example  io  thofe  around  her  who  could 
not  ;*and  remembered  that  it  was  a  part  of  an  infpir- 
ed  defcription  of  a  virtuous  woman,  xh^iX  Jhe  looked  well 
to  the  ways  of  her  houJehoUi,  and  ate  not  the  bre^.d  of 
idlen/^fs. 

Diligence  and  frugality  are  filters.  She  was  firi(fl:- 
]y  careful  of  her  expenfes,  and  yet  knew  how  to  be 
generous,  and  to  abound,  as  occafion  required  But 
of  all  ways  of  faving,  (he  liked  that  the  lealt  which 
fliuts  the  hands  to  the  poor,  toward  whcm  (he  was  al- 
ways compaffionate  and  charitable.  Ot  the  other  der 
lights  which  a  great  toriune  furnifhcd  her,  (he  ■was 
almod:  infenfible  \  but  on  this  account  ihe  valued  it, 
that  it  gave  her  an  opportunity  ot  enjoying  the  pleaf- 
ures  of  beneficence,  and  of  tafting  all  the  fweets  of 
well-.'!oing.  She  dell'uered  the  poor  that  cricd^  and  the 
f  therejsy  and  him  that  had  none  to  help  him.  The 
hlejjmg  of  him  that  was  ready  to  peri fh  came  vpon  hcry 

and 


215  Memoirs  of 

4ind fhe  caufed  the  widoio's  heart  tofwgforjoy.  Yet 
fo  unofteniatious  and  fecret  was  fhe  in  the  exercife  of 
fthis  virtue,  thatmany  of  the  mod  remarkable  inflanccs 
of  her  goodnefs  were  not  known  till  after  her  death. 

Retirement  and  privacy  flie  always  loved.  More 
than  three  years  before  her  marriage,  fhe  was  at  lib- 
erty to  have  lived  in  tov/n  ;  but  from  a  fettled  a/erfiori 
to  the  noife  and  hurry  of  fuch  a  life,  (he  fVill  hid  her- 
>felf  in  the  country.  She  had  too  poor  an  opinion  of 
herfelf,  to  think  it  fo  much  the  intereft  of  virtue  and 
religion  as  it  really  was,  that  ihe  fhould  be  known 
and  diilinguiflied. 

When  afterv»'ard  fFie  went  to  court,  as  was  fomc- 
times  neceflary,  her  air  and  manner  were  fuch  as 
plainly  Ihev/ed  that  flie  went  to  pay  her  duty  there, 
and  not  to  enjoy  the  pomp  and  fplendor  of  the  fcene. 

SoOn  after  her  marriage,  ihe  declared  to  feveral 
friends  her  perfuafion,  that  every  woman  of  quality  was 
as  much  more  obliged,  as  fhe  was  more  enabled,  than 
other  women,  to  do  good  in  the  world  ;  and  that  the 
fliorteft  and  fureft  way  of  doing  this  was  to  endeavor 
lo  be  as  good  a  Chriflian,  as  good  a  wife,  and  as  good 
a  friend  as  was  poffible.  All  this  ihe  attempted  ;  and 
came  much  nearer  the  mark  than  moft.  In  each  char- 
adler,  relation  and  duty  that  belonged  to  her,  ilie  ex- 
celled. She  was  devout,  without  l^iiperifiii©n  ;  ftri^f, 
without  ill-humor;  good-natured,  without  weaknefs; 
cheerful,  without  levity  ;  and  regular,  without  affect- 
ation. She  was  to  her  hufband,  the  beft  of  wives,  the 
moil  agreeable  of  companions  and  of  friends  ;  to  her 
fervants^  the  kindefl  of  miftrefles  ;  to  her  relations, 
extremely  refpeclful  ;  to  her  inferiors,  fingularly  con- 
defcending  •  and  by  all  who  knew  her,  either  nearly, 
ox  at  a  di(tance,rae  was  efteemed  and  confeifed  one  of 
the  be  If  of  Vv' omen. 

As  her  life  was  Ihort,  her  death  was  fudden.  A  few 
hours  only  intervened  between  her  being  very  eafy  in 
this  world,  and  very  happy  in  another.     But  Hie  was 

ever 


Xa^v  Cutt^.  113 

«ver  in  preparation  :  and  was  taken  ill  the  moment 
after  (he  had  clofed  her  morning  devotions.  In  Inch 
a  cafe,  how  defirable  is  fudden  death  !  She  had  been  lb 
much  iifed  to  have  her  converiation  in  h.eaven,and  her 
foul  had  been  fo  often  on  the  wing  thither,  that  it 
ieemed  glad  to  embrace  the  firil:  call  to  quit  its  prifon 
of  clay.  This  excellent  and  happy  woman  ilayed  no 
longer  after  the  (wmmons,  than  to  aiFure  her  beloved 
hufband  of  her  entire  refignation  to  the  divine  will, 
and  her  perfecSl  peace  in  the  profpecl  of  exchanging 
worlds.  When  this  was  over,  and  ihe  had  taken  a 
tender  leave,  fhe  had  nothing  more  to  do,  btit  funk  to 
her  long-defired  rell  in  the  bofom  of  her  Sa-jior. 


M^.s.  ANNE  ASKEWE,  otherwise  KYME. 


pi^HE  was  born  about  the  year  1520,  or  1521- 
She  was  favored  with  the  advantages  of  a  learned  ed- 
ucation, of  which  The  made  the  bed  improvemenc  ; 
and  her  great  learning  was  fan£lified  by  early  and  un- 
feigned piety. 

She  was  married  to  a  perfon  of  the  name  of  Kyme  : 
a  Hep  to  which  (he  was  induced,  or  rather  overawed 
and  conftrained,  by  her  father,  Sir  William  Afkewe, 
who  cruelly  facrihced  to  his  own  convenience  and  in- 
tereff,  the  happinefs  cf  his  daughter.  From  a  con- 
nexion thus  unwarrantably  formed,  little  good  could 
be  expeded.  Its  confequences,  dircd  and  more  re- 
mote, were  unhappy  indeed  ! 

T  *  Although 


2f4  Memoirs  of 

Although  married  much  againfl  her  will,  yet  the 
moment  (he  was  bound  by  obligations  fo  folemn,  (he 
applied  herfelf  to  difcharge  them  as  became  a  Chrif- 
tian.  In  all  the  duties  incumbent  on  a  wife,  (he  was 
confcientious  and  exemplary.  The  book  of  God  was 
her  coniiant  companion  and  delight.  In  fearching 
its  pages  for  light  and  diredlion,  Ihe  found  ^.bundant 
jeafon  to  be  fatisfied  that  many  Popifh  ideas  in  which 
ihe  had  been  educated,  were  mere Tuperftitions,  nei- 
ther grounded  in  the  declarations  of  God's  word,  nor 
confilient  with  them.  She  therefore,  with  the  fim- 
plicity  and  ingenuoufnefs  of  a  pious  heart,  rejected 
them,  and  embraced  the  doctrines  of  the  Reformation. 
This  alteration  of  fentim.ents  was  foon  difcovered  by 
jfeveral  Popilh  priefts,  who  mod  unhappily  had  a  great 
afcendency  over  her  hufband,  an  unfeeling  and  cruel 
iTian  ;  and  who  prevailed  with  him  to  expel  her  from 
his  houfe.  Thus  circumftanced,  fhe  concluded  herfelf 
•warranted  both  by  the  principles  of  reafon  and  fcrip- 
ture,  to  feek  a  dilTolution  of  the  marriage  relation  ; 
and  accordingly  went  to  London  in  order  to  obtain  a 
iegal  divorce.  Hither  fne  was  purfued  by  the  vigi- 
lance and  cruelty  of  theRomiih  priefts  ;  and  here,  by 
the  procurement  of  her  hulhand,  fhe  was  taken  into 
cuf!:(.dy,  to  be  examined  concerning  her  faith. 

This  examination  confifted  partly  of  queftioJis  ref- 
peeling  the  principal  points  in  difpute  between  the 
Papifts  and  Proteftahts,  and  partly  of  interrogations 
equally  infignificant  and  enfnaring.  To  the  former, 
her  anfwers  were  generally  enlightened,  explicit  and 
iirm.  To  the  latter,  ChQ  replied  with  fo  tr.uch  brevity 
and  prudence,  as  to  give  her  examiners  little  advan- 
tage againft  her.  Sometime  after,  (lie  was  again  quef- 
tioned  before  the  King's  Council.  During  this  ex- 
amination, v/hich  continued  abo«5t  five  hours,  (he  dif- 
played  the  fame  courageous  and  determined  adherence 
to  the  truth  as  before.  The  BilTiop  of  Winchefter 
threatening  her,  that  unlefs  (lie  renounced  her  opin- 
ions, 


Mrs.  Anne  Askew e.  215' 

ions,  (he  fhoulci  be  burnt,  (he  coolly  replied  :  <'  I  have 
Searched  all  the  fcriptures,  yet  could  never  find  that 
either  Chrift  or  hisApoftles  put  any  creature  todeath." 
She  added,  that  God  would  laugh  their  threatenings  to 
fcorn.  Her  perfecutors,  finding  that  neither  threats 
nor  perfuafions  were  of  any  avail,  were  compelled  to 
defift  for  the  prefent.  But  a  fhort  time  afterward,  this 
uncommon  woman,  and  glorious  fufferer  for  the  truth 
of  the  gofpel,  was  fent  to  Newgate.  Neither  her  fex, 
nor  tlie  tendernefs  of  her  education,  nor  a  fevere  and 
painful  indifpofition  which  flie  had  tit  the  time,  could 
exempt  her  from  this  infamous  and  cruel  imprifon- 
nient. 

From  Newgate  fne  was  brought  to  Guildhall,  that 
fte  might  be  again  examined,  and  condemned.  Being 
told  that  fne  was  a  heretic,  and  condemned  by  the  law, 
(a  law  which  at  that  time  exifted,  dooming  to  death 
luch  as  denied  the  doctrine  of  tranfubftanliation)  un- 
lefs  (lie  would  abandon  her  opinions,  CnG  replied,  that 
ill e  was  no  heretic,  neither  deferved  death  by  the  lav/ 
of  God  ;  but  the  faith  which  fne  had  uttered  and 
written  to  the  Coimcil,  flie  would  net  deny  ;  becaufe 
fhe  knew  it  to  be  true/  Being  an<ed  whether  fhe 
would  deny  the  facrament  to  be  Chrift's  body  and 
blood,  flie  anfwered,  "  Yes  ;  for  tlie  fame  Son  of 
God  who  was  born  of  the  virgin  Mary,  is  now  giori- 
<nis  in  heaven,  and  will  come  again  from  thence  at  the 
laiter  day,  in  like  manner  as  he  went  up.  And  as  for 
that  you  call  your  God,  it  i-s  a  piece  of  bread  ;  for  a 
proot  of  which,  (mark  it  when  you  pleafe)  let  it  lie 
in  the  box  three  months,  and  it  will  be  mouldy,  and 
fo  turn  to  nothing  that  is  good.  Therefore  I  am  per- 
fuaded  that  it  cannot  be  God."  It  being  propofcd  to 
her  that  fhe  fhould  have  a  Prieft,  fhe  replied,  fmiling, 
that  *  fhe  would  ccnfefs  her  faults  to  God,  for  flie  was 
fure  He  would  hear  her  with  fsvor.'  The  iffue  of  all 
■was,  that  Ihe  was  condemned  to  be  burnt  to  death,  and 
l4iis  without  the  indulgence  of  a  trial  by  jury,  though 

the 


2i6  Memoirs  op 

the  law  on  which  her  condemnation  was  grounded, 
iinjiifl:  and  cruel  as  it  was, had  exprefsly  provided  this 
indulgence.  Sentence  being  pronounced,  fhe  again 
declared  her  unalterable  adherence  to  her  principles  ; 
adding,  in  the  fpirit  of  a  Chriftian  martyr,  that  *  (he 
neither  wifhed  death,  nor  feared  its  power,  for  whicli 
fhe  bleffedGod." 

The  perfecutions  and  perfuafions  of  her  bigotled 
aiverfaries  tollowed  her  ftill.  But  finding  them  ut- 
terly unavailing,  they  changed  their  objed  ;  and,  fuf- 
peding  there  were  perfons  of  didindion  about  the 
Court,  who  embraced  the  reform.ed  dodrines,  they 
endeavored  to  make  u(e  of  her  as  an  inftrument  to  de- 
ted  them.  Finding  all  common  methods  both  of  art 
and  violence  ineffectual,  they  put  her  to  the  torture. 
The  account  of  this  barbaroiis  tranfadion  is  bcO:  giv- 
en in  her  own  fimple language.  *'  Becaufe,"  fayslhe, 
*'  I  would  confefs  no  ladies  or  gentlewomen  to  be  of 
jny  opinion,  they  put  ineon  the  rack,  and  thereon  they 
keptmealong  time  :  and  becaufe  I  lay  flill  and  did  not 
cry,  the  Lord  Chancellor  and  Mr.  Rich  took  pains 
to  rack  me  with  their  own  hands,  till  I  was  near 
dead.  Tlien  the  Lieutenant  caufed  me  to  be  loofed 
irom  the  rack.  Immediately  I  iwooned,  but  they  re- 
covered me.  After  that  I  fat  two  hours  on  the  bare 
floor,  reafoning  with  the  Lord  Chancellor,  while  he, 
•with  many  flattering  words,  perfuadediric  to  leave  my 
opinion.  But  my  Lord  God,  I  thank  his  everlafling 
goodnefs,  gave  me  grace  to  perfcvere,  and  will,  I  hope, 
to  the  very  end.  Then  1  was  brought  to  a  houfe,  and 
laid  in  a  bed  with  as  vv-eary  and  painful  bones  as  ever 
patient  Job  had  :  I  thank  my  Lord  God  therefor. 
Then  my  Lord  Chancellor  fent  me  v/ord,  that  if  I 
would  leave  my  opinion,  I  fiiould  want  nothing  :  if  I 
would  not,  1  fhould  forthwith  go  to  Newgate,  and  be 
burned.  I  again  fent  him  v/ord,  that  I  would  lathei? 
die  than  break  my  faith." 

Her 


Mrs,  Anne  Askewe,  2r/ 

Her  fcntence  was  executed  at  Smitbfield.  In  the 
near  profpe6t  of  death,  dhe  was  fo  little  intimidated 
or  difcompofed,  that  one  who  faw  her  on  the  morn- 
ing of  the  fatal  day,  declared  that  ftie  had  a  fmilipg 
face,  and  an  angel's  countenance;  At  the  dreadful 
place  of  execution,  fhe  difplayed  an  example  of  feren- 
ity  and  fortitude,  which  was  aftonifhing  to  all  prcfento 
Before  the  fire  was  kindled,  the  Lord  Chancellor  font 
letters,  offering  her  the  King's  pardon,  if  Ihe  would 
recant.  But  (he  refufed  fo  much  as  to  look  at  them, 
faying,  *  fhe  came  not  thither  to  deny  her  Lord  and 
Mafter.'  It  was  remarkable  that  her  example  and 
exhortations  at  the  ftake,  feemed  the  principal  means 
of  keeping  up  the  courage  ofher  three  worthy  fellow- 
fufrerers,  one  of  whom  was  a  miniiler  of  Chrift. 

Thus  glorioufly  terminated  the  life  of  Anne  Afkevve^ 
a  woman  dillinguillied  by  her  futferings,  and  fo  dif- 
tinguifhed  by  her  piety,  as  to  have  the  honorable  tef- 
timony  from  the  lips  even  of  a  bigotted  Papiif,  who 
had  long  watched  her  with  the  moll  malicious  de- 
Cigns,  that  <  llie  was  the  devoiitefl  and  godlieft  vv^omaii 
he  ever  knew.'  In  an  emphatical  and  blelTed  fenfe, 
{ht  prejented  her  body  a  living Jacrifice  to  her  God,  and 
fweetly  breathed  out  her  fpirit  into  the  bofom  ofher 
adored  Redeemer. 

She  left  behind  her  a  variety  of  devout  compofi- 
tions,  moftly  written  in  prifon.-  The  following,  con- 
ceived in  the  ftyle  of  that  early  time,  is  prefervtd  as  a 
fpecimen.- 

**  The  Confejfton  of  Faith  which  x\nnQ  Aiii^vitmade 
tn  Newgate  bejore  jhe  Juffered. 

I  Anne  Afkewe,  of  good  memory,  though  my  mer- 
ciful Father  hath  given  me  the  bread  of  adver- 
fuy,  and  the  water  of  trouble,  (yet  not  fo  much  as  my 
fins  have  deferved)  confefs  myfelf  here  a  fmner,  be- 
fore the  throne  of  his  heavenly  MajeRv,  defiring  his 
forgivenefs  and  mercy.  And  forafmuch  as  I  ain  by 
the  law  unrighteoufly  condemned  for  evil  opinions,  t 
X  %  take 


^iS  Memoirs  of 

take  the  fame  mofl:  merciful  God  of  mine,  who  hath 
made  both  heaven  and  earth,  to  record,  that  I  hold  no 
opinions  contrary  to  his  moft  holy  word  :  and  I  triift 
in  my  merciful  Lord,  who  is  the  giver  of  all  grace, 
that  He  will  graciouOy  aiTift  me  againft  all  evil  opin- 
ions which  are  contrary  to  his  blelfed  verity  ;  for  I 
take  him  to  witnefs  that  I  have  done,  and  will  to  my 
life's  end  utterly  abhor  them  to  the  utter  mofl  of  my 
power.  But  this  is  the  herefy  which  they  report  me 
to  hold  ;  that  after  the  Prieff  hath  fpoken  the  w^ords 
of  confecration,  there  remaineth  bread  ftill.  They 
both  fay,  and  alfo  teach  it  as  a  necelTary  article  of 
faith,  that  after  thefe  words  are  once  fpoken,  there  re- 
inaineth  no  bread,  but  the  felf-fame  body  that  hung 
on  the  crofs,  bothflefh,  blood  and  bone.  To  this  be- 
lief of  theirs  I  fay  nay  ;  for  then  were  our  common 
Creed  falfe,  which  faith  that  he  fitteth  on  the  right 
hand  of  God  the  Father  Almighty,  and  from  thence 
jliall  come  to  judge  the  quick  and  dead.  Lo  !  this  is 
the  herefy  I  hold,  and  for  it  I  mull:  fuffer death.  But 
as  touching  the  holy  and  blefled  fupper  of  the  Lord, 
I  believe  it  to  be  a  mofl:  neceffary  remembrance  of  his 
glorious  fufFerings  and  death.  Moreover,  I  believe 
as  much  therein  as  my  eternal  and  only  Redeemer- 
would  I  fhould  believe.  Finally,  I  believe  all  thofe- 
fcriptures  to  be  true,  which  he  hath  confirmed  with 
his  moft  precious  blood.  Yea,  and  as  Saint  Paul  faith,, 
ihofe  fcriptures  are  fufficient  for  our  learning  andfal- 
vation,  fo  that  I  believe  we  need  no  unwritten  verities 
to  rule  his  church  with.  Therefore  what  he  hath  faid 
to  me  with  his  own  mouth,  in  his  holy  gofpel,  that  I 
]iave,  with  God's  grace,  clofed  up  in  my  heart  ;  and 
my  full  truft  is,  that  it  fliail  be  as  David  faith,  a  lamp 
to  my  footrteps.  There  are  fome  who  fay  I  deny  the 
Eucharift,  or  Sacrament  of  Thankfgiving  :  but  they 
report  of  me  untruly.  For  I  both  fay  and  believe, 
that  if  ordered  as  Chrift  inftituted  and  left  it,  it  would 
be  a  moft  fingular  comfort  to  us  all.  But  as  concern- 
ing 


Mrs.  Anne  Askew^.  iT0 

ingthe  mafs,  as  now  ufed,  I  do  fay  and  believe  it  to 
be  the  moft  abominable  idol  in  the  world  ;  for  my 
God  will  not  be  eaten  wi^h  teeth,  neither  dieih  be  a- 
gain.  And  upon  thefe  words  which  1  have  now  fpo- 
ken,  will  I  fuffer  death. 

O  Lord,  I  have  more  enemies  thai!  there  a^e  hairs 
on  my  head  ;  yet,  Lord,  let  them  never  overcome  me 
with  vain  words,  but  fight  thou.  Lord,  in  my  (lead, 
for  on  thee  I  caft  my  care  !  With  all  the  fpite  they  can 
imagine,  they  fall  upon  me,  thy  poor  creature.  Yet^ 
fweet  Lord,  let  me  not  fear  them  who  are  againft  me, 
for  in  thee  is  my  whole  delight.  And  Lord,  I  heart- 
ily defire  of  thee  that  thou  wilt,  of  thy  mod  merciful 
goodnefs,  forgive  them  the  violence  which  they  do> 
and  have  done  unto  me.  Open  thou  alfo  their  blind 
hearts,  that  they  may  hereafter  do  that  which  is  alone 
acceptable  before  thee,  and  fet  forth  thy  verity  aright, 
free  from  all  the  vain  fancies  of  fmful  men.  So  bs 
it,  O  Lord,  fo  be  it  ! — —By  me, 

AnNI^  ASKEWE." 

The  Chriflian  fortitude  and  comfort  exhibited  by 
this  pious  fufferer,  form  a  flriking  comment  on  the  fol- 
lowing defcription  of  Sir  Richard  Blackmore. 

Thy  force  a]oney  Religion^  death  difnrfnsy 
Breaks  all  his  darts,  and  every  viper  charms,- 
Soften  d  by  thee^  the  grifly  form  appears 
No  more  the  horrid  object  of  our  fears  : 
JVe  undifmayd  this  awful  pow'r  obey. 
That  guides  us  through  the  fafe^  though  gloomy  way^ 
Which  leads  to  life,  and  to  the  hleft  alcdcy 
Where  ravifl/d minds  enjoy  what  here  they  owndy  a  god-. 


The 


aab  Memoirs  of 


The  Right  Honorable 
LADY  ELIZABETH  HASTINGS. 


HIS  lady  was  daughter  of  the  Earl  of 
Huntingdon,  and  was  born  April  19,  1682.  There 
was  an  agreeable  dawn  of  her  future  excellencies,  in 
her  childhood,  Acountenance  that  united  in  it  fome- 
thing  great,  and  fomething  condefcending,  a  quick- 
nefs  of  underftanding,  a  flexibility  and  ingenuoufnefs 
of  difpofition,  a  benevolent  fpirit,  and  an  inclination 
to  ferioufnefs  and  devotion,  were  perceived  in  her,  e- 
ven  at  this  early  period.  She  manifefled  not  only  a 
remarkable  unexceptionablenefs  of  condud,  but  a  fu- 
periority  to  the  world  and  its  amufements,  very  unu- 
fual  at  her  age.  She  was  much  attached  to  retirement,  - 
and  much  engaged  in  the  devout  exercifes  of  the 
clofet,-       ,  ,        , 

She  early  difplayed  a  fmgular  prudence  of  difpofi-- 
tion  and  condud  ;  efpecially  in  demeaning  herfelf,  a-" 
midft  fome  unhappy  family  contefts,  fo  unexception- 
ably  as  to  preferve  the  efteem  and  affedion  of  each  of 
the  contending  parties. 

After  the  death  of  her  father,  though  her  means- 
were  ntot  fo  great,  file  applied  herfelf  fo  alfiduoufly  to-^ 
doing  good,  as  ftrikingly  to  manifeft  the  benevolence 
and  largenefs  of  her  heart.  But  her  aftive  life  com- 
menced more  confpicuoufly  at  the  deceafe  of  her  bro- 
ther  ;  when  her  extraordinary  virtues  ilione  out,  by 
■what  has  been  the  eclipfe  of  virtue  in  others,  the  ac- 

ceflion 


Lady  Elizabeth  Hastings^         22i 

cefiion  of  a  large  fortune.  From  this  period,  fhe  be^ 
came  known  a^  a  lady  poflelTed  of  fomething  more 
than  great  beauty,  fine  accompli (hments,  engaging 
manners,  and  external  regularity  in  religious  duties. 
Her  aims  were  high  ;  and  no  attainments  in  piety  and 
goodnefs,  which  v/ere  (hort  of  perfection,  could  limit 
her  purfuits. 

Her  merit  and  accomplifliments  were  celebrated  by 
the  ingenious  autlior  of  the  papers  called  ihe  Tatle?\ 
whofpeaks  of  her  under  the  nameof^^^^,  as  an  *'iU 
lulfrious  pattern  to  all  who  love  things  praile-worthy, 
Methinks,"  fays  this  writer,  '^  I  now  fee  her  walking 
in  her  garden,  like  our  firft  parent  with  unafFe6led 
charms  before  beauty  had  fpeclators,  and  bearing  ce^ 
ieifial,  confcious  virtue  in  her  afpect.  Her  counten- 
ance is  the  lively  picture  of  her  mind,  which  is  the 
feat  of  honor,  truth,  compaflion,  knowledge,  and  in-^ 
TiOcence. 

There  dwells  the  fcorn  of  vice,  and  pity  too. 

In  the  midft  of  the  moft  ample  fortune,  and  venera- 
tion of  all  that  behold  her,  without  the  lead  afFeda- 
tion  file  confuits  retirement,  the  contemplation  of  her 
own  being,  and  that  Supreme  Power  which  beflow- 
ed  it.  Witliout  the  learning  of  fchools,  or  know- 
ledge of  a  long  courfe  of  arguments,  file  goes  on  in  a 
fteady  courfe  of  uninterrupted  piety  and  virtue,  and' 
adds  to  the  feverity  of  the  lait  age,  all  the  freedom  and 
eafe  of  this.  The  language  and  mien  of  a  court 
llie  is  pofieifed  of,  in  the  higheft  degree  ;  but  the  fim- 
plicity  and  humble  thoughts  of  a  cottage,  are  her  more 
welcome  entertainments.  Afpafia  is  a  female  philof- 
opher,  who  does  not  only  live  up  to  the  refignation 
of  the  mod:  retired  lives  of  the  ancient  fages,  but  alfo 
to  the  fchemesand  plans  wliich  they  thought  beautiful 
though  inimitable.  She  is  the  mod:  exa£t  economill:^ 
without  appearing  bufy  ;  the  mod  ftridly  virtuous^ 
without  tafting  the  praife  of  it  ;  and  Ihuns  applaufe- 
vvith  as  much  induftry  as  others  do  reproach.     This- 

charader. 


2xi  Memoirs  or 

cbara£ler  is  fo  particular,  that  it  v/ill  be  very  eafily 
fixed  on  her  only,  by  all  that  know  her  ;  but  I  dare 
fay,  Ihe  will  be  the  lad  that  finds  it  out." 

That  fhe  might  be  under  the  beft  advantages  for  im- 
provement in  piety,  Vat  formed  an  acquaintance  with 
feveral  perfons  efieemed  eminent  for  religion  ;  and  a- 
mong  the  reft,  with  Archbifhop  Sharp,  Dr.  Lucas 
and  Mr.  Nelfon.  Many  years  after  their  deceaie,  fhe 
has  been  heard  to  felicitate  herfelf  on  the  privilege  file 
had  enjoyed  in  their  friendfliip.  By  them  fliev/as  muclv 
efteemed  and  honored.  In  a  letter  of  thelafl  gentleman 
mentioned,  which  yet  remains,  he  celebrates  her  in 
that  high  eulogium  of  fcripture  :  Many  daughters  have 
done  vlrtuoujlyy  hut  thou  excelleji  them  all. 

In  the  place  where  her  Lady  (hip  fpent  the  greater" 
part  of  her  life,  alinoft  every  eye  beheld  her  with 
wonder.  Her  amiable  example  charmed  multitudes 
around  her*into  the  love  of  goodnefs,  while  it  con- 
firmed and  improved  the  virtues  of  others. 

Such  was  the  fuperiority  of  her  underftanding,  that' 
in  thingsof  great  moip.ent,  hundreds  have  afked  coun- 
fcl  of  her,  who  were  well  qualified  to  beftow  it  on 
others.  She  was  blelTed  with  a  re£litude  of  judgment 
that  enabled  her  readily  to  penetrate  through  perplex- 
ities, and  difcern  the  wifetl  and  fafeft  courie,  having 
ever  for  her  guide  the  interefts  of  truth,  juftice  and 
religion.  Her  grand  objedl  v/as  the  glory  of  God, 
Vnd  the  good  of  her  fellow-creatures,  for  whofe  ben-" 
efit  {he  kept  her  capacities.,  her  powers,  her  fortune, 
continually  on  the  itretch  ;  weeping  with  thofe  who 
wept,  reioicing  with  thofe  who  rejoiced,  given  to  hof- 
pitalitv,diftributing  to  the  neceffitiesof  the  faints,  and 
of  thofe  who  were  not  faints,  having  joy  at  the  con- 
verfion  of  a  fmner,  and  even  the  fmalleft  appearances 
of  it. 

BefiJe  an  uncommon  underftanding  of  fubjec^s 
pertaining  immediately  to  the  prefent  life,  flie  was 
(indued  with  much  of  the  wijdom  which  is  from  above  / 

-    '  and- 


and  was  io  ;.:•:■! riially  under  its  influence,  that  what- 
ever (he  wrote  or  fpoke  was  in  confiftency  with  it. 
Her  mind  was  in  full  harmony  with  the  felt-denying 
precepts  of  the  gofpel.  From  this  facred  fource  flie 
drew  her  rules  and  maxims  of  condu^:,  and  was  fe- 
licitous to  have  her  whole  ccnverfation  conform.ed  to 
them.  **Her  will  was  bowed  to  the  divine  will  in  her 
aftliclionF.  Becaufe  they  were  the  pleafiire  of  God, 
they  were  hers  too  :  and  when  his  arrows,  ftuck  fait 
within  her,  and  his  hand  preffed  her  fore,  llie  poiTeffed 
her  foul  not  only  in  patience,  but  cheerfuinefs  ;  and 
on  the  matnreft'refledion,  preferred  thefe painful  fea- 
fons  of  life  to  the  days  of  eafe  and  health.  Her  afrec- 
tions  were  remarkably  fet  on  things  above,  pantincr 
and  longing  after  the  pleafures  which  are  there,  and 
attaching  her  to  fuch  employments  as  infallibly  lead  to 
them. 

Her  drefs  and  mode  of  living  were  fuch  as  became 
iier  rank  and  ftation.  She  confidered  her  body  as  the 
temple  of  the  holy  Ghoft,  and  poirelfed  it  in  fancjili- 
cation  and  honor.  Her  portions  of  meat,  and  drink, 
2nd  fleep,  were  all  dictated  and  limited  by  neceffity. 
The  intervals  in  the  laft  were  improved  in  pious  med- 
itation, or  in  deliberating  how  fhe  might  better  ful- 
fil the  duties  of  her  Chrilfian  calling. 

The  word  of  God  was  a  lamp  to  her  feet,  and  a 
light  to  her  path.  Her  delight  was  in  his  law,  and 
fhe  made  it  her  every  day's  ftudy.  She  held  her  bible 
to  her  heart,  to  receive  its  quickening  virtue  ;  while 
at  the  fame  time,  fhe  applied  it  as  a  mirror  to  her  face, 
to  difcover  every  fpot  and  blemJih.  The  other  books 
which  fhe  ufed,  were  well  chofen  ;  and  often  did  fhe 
refort  to  them  as  means  of  direction  and  felf-exain- 
ination,  and  in  order  that  fhe  might  learn  what  Ihe 
had  in  common  with  the  children  of  God,  and  in  what 
ilie  fell  fhort  of  them.  She  compared  Ipiritual  things 
with  fpiritual,  fne  ccmmuned  with  her  own  heart, 
and  fearched  out  her  fpirit,  weighing  herfelf  as  in  a 
balance.  She 


1^24  Memoirs  c? 

She  iifed  her  pen  much  ;  fometimes  for  herfdf,  but 
oftener  in  the  fervice  of  others.  Befide  thofe  papers 
which  went  abroad,  many  remained  with  her,  but 
Were  unhappily  deftroyed,  by  a  too  fevere  a  fentence 
of  her  own.  Had  they  been  preferved,  fhe  would 
have  been  better  known,  and  doubtlefs  many  excel- 
lent things  might  have  been  faid  of  her,  which  no 
other  inform.ation  canfurnifh. 

She  began  everyday  with  fecret  prayer  ;  addref- 
iing  her  God  with  much  premeditation,  recoUedlion 
of  .fpirit,  and  fervency.  She  well  knew  and  appre- 
ciated the  importance  of  prayer,  its  help  to  enlight- 
en, relieve,  llrengthen  and  purify  the  foul.  Hence 
file  was  almoft  continually  in  this  duty,  ever  attend- 
ing to  the  all-feeing  eye  of  God  upon  her,  and  having 
her  foul  winged  and  carried  up  in  holy  pantings  and 
afpirations  toward  Him.  It  was  likewife  her  cuftoni 
tocoUecl  her  family  for  tiiis  exercife,  excepting  fuch 
as  were  neceffarily  detained,  four  times  a  day.  Hap- 
py were  thofe  fervants  who  came  under  her  roof; 
for  there  v/as  everything  for  them  that  might  do  them 
good,  in  a  tender,  gracious  bountiful,  compaflionate 
miftrefs  prefiding  over  them  with  the  difpofilions  ot 
a  parent,  providing  for  the  improvement  of  their 
minds  and  the  decency  of  their  behavior,  and  ufing 
every  pofTible  method  to  bring  them  to  true  religion. 
And  as  her  great  talents  were  remarkably  calculated 
to  turn  m.any  to  righteoufnefs,  fo  fhe  was  remarkably 
fuccefsful.  She  was  inflrumental  greatly  to  enlarge 
the  borders  of  God's  kingdom,  both  near  and  afar  off. 

She  delighted  much  in  public  worlhip,  and  con- 
flantly  attended  it.  Her  behavior  in  the  houfe  of 
God,  though  free  from  all  Pharifaical  afrc6fation,was 
felemn,  grave  and  av/ful,  and  mirch  calculated  to 
jqiiicken  and  anim.ate  the  devotions  of  others. 

She  was  confcientioiis  in  regard  to  every  part  of 
duty.  Her  care  extended  even  to  her  cattle,  becaufe 
rhat  Is  declared  to  be  a  property  of  mercy.     Shefpar- 

ed 


Lady  Elizabeth  Hastings.         225' 

«d  no  pains  nor  expcnfe  in  (o  accommodating  her 
hoiire,  as  might  moit  conduce  to  the  eafe  and  comfort 
of  her  fecvants.  She  even  attended  to  elegance,  both 
within  and  around  her  dwelling  ;  and  this  principal- 
ly, that  her  peorerneighbors  mit^ht  be  iiirnillied  wiui 
employment. 

Vifits  and  ceremony  were  far  from  b'eing  agreea- 
ble to  her  ;  vet  rather  than  incur  the  im.piJtation  of 
oiftance  and  fnpercilioufnefs,  Ihe  kept  up  an  inter- 
coiirfe  with  thofe  of  her  rank. 

As  a  companion,  fiie  was  peculiarly  amiable.  She 
pofteired  fnining  talents  for  converfation,  of  which 
hov/ever  The  made  a  very  temiperate  life  ;  frequently 
reftraining  a  lively  imagination,  and  manifefting  her 
excellent  tafle  in  preferring  felid  fenfe  and  real  kind- 
Ficfs,  to  all  the  brilliancies  of  v.'it  and  humor.  It  was 
her  great  care  to  convince  thofe  v/ith  whom  fhe  con- 
verfed  of  her  regard,  to  make  none  uneafy  with  licr 
fuperiority,  to  let  none  think  themfelves  negledted  or 
overlooked,  and  to  adapt  her  converfation  lo.  the  fub- 
ie6l  ;  conftantly  watching,  with  ergerrefs  and  pene- 
tration, for  a  happy  tranfition  of  the  difcourfe  to  re- 
ligion. When  this  point  was  gained,  Ihe  was  in  her 
element,  and  highly  enjoyed  hcrfclf.  Nor  had  ilie 
ever  much  pleafure  in  company,  tinlefs  religion  had 
fome  place  in  the  converfation.  She  apprehended  its 
fpirit  mud  be  v/anting,  at  leaft  in  the  greater  part  of 
thofe  prefent,  if  there  was  an  entire  filence  on  the  one 
thing  needfuL 

At  her  table,  her  countenance  was  open  and  ferene, 
lier  voice  foft  and  melodious,  her  converfation  polite 
and  feafoned  with  fait,  tr-eating  of  things  ufeful  and 
important,  and  bringing  out  of  her  treafures  of  wif- 
dotn  things  new  and  old.  Here  fhe  difplayed  the  el- 
egancies of  good  breeding,  addrefiing  herf^flf  to  all 
^vi'h  meeknefs  and  condefcenfion,  and  adapting  hcr- 
1-lf  to  every  one's  talents  and  capacities.  The  feiles 
u  '  of 


226  Memoirs  op 

.of  her  benevolence  were  enjoyed  by  all,  and  every  one 
Jelt  the  fweetnefs  of  her  company. 

As  her  hoiife  and  table  were  rarely  deftitiite  of  fome 
of  her  family  connexions,  fo  flie  made  them  all  parts 
.of  hcrfelf,  and  embraced  all  her  relations  according  to 
their  feveral  degrees  of  confanguinity,  with  true  and 
tender  afFe6lion.  She  would  alfo  inquire  and  feek  af- 
ter any  of  the  withering  and  drooping  branches  of  her 
family,  that  ihe  might  fupport  and  cherifh  them; 
aiming  by  kindnefies  of  this  nature,  to  ferve  their  befl 
ihterelts,  and  allure  them  into  the  paths  of  piety. 

It  would  be  fcarce  poflibleto  defcribethc  tenderncfs 
^nd  conftancy  of  her  care  exercifed  toward  the  (Irang- 
er,  the  fatherlefs  and  widow,  the  needy,  and  him  that 
had  no  helper,  the  lame,  the  halt  and  the  blind.  Such 
objects  drew  out  the  compaflions  of  her  foul.  She 
ihared  in  all  their  fufferings.  She  inquired  into  their* 
jiiftory  with  the  utmoft  condefcenfion.  She  ftudied 
their  particular  cafes,  and  put  them  in  "a  way  to  better 
their  condition.  She  vifited  them  in  ficknefs,  and  de- 
frayed the  expenfes  of  it.  Some  of  them  were  ever 
in  her  court-yard,  or  in  her  houfe  ;  and  frequently 
jrreat  numbers.  Nor  was  it  chargeable  on  any  ne- 
Sled  of  hers,  if  any  one  went  away  unrelieved  with 
rneat,  phyfic,  clothing,  or  money  ;  and  many  times 
they  were  all  beftowed  on  a  fingle  fubje^f.  Many 
v,ho  lived  remote,  had  yearly  allowances,  and  large 
fums  were  frequently  fen t  into  diflant  parts  of  the 
kingdom. 

Her  ftill  larger  applications  of  her  property  were 
ilxed  penfions  on  reduced  families,  exhibitions  to 
icholars  at  the  Univerfiiies,  the  maintenance  of  her 
own  charity  fchool,hcr  contributions  to  other  fchools, 
difburfements  to  the  focieties  for  propagating  the  gof- 
pel  in  foreign  parts,  and  for  promoting  Chriftian 
}.:nowledt;e  at  home,  with  the  erection  and  augmenta- 
tion of  churojhes.  To  which  may  be  added,  frequent 
;:emifiions  of  debts  in  cafes  of  diifrefs  or  infolvency  ; 

together 


Lady  Elizabeth  Hastings.  q.v] 

tl-^gether  with  a  noble  plenty,  and  a  decent  magnin- 
cence  in  her  houfe,  and  con:tant  afts  or  generoliiy,  net 
only  to  relations  and  friend^-,  but  to  thofc  who  were 
merely  known  to  her.  Her  declared  rule  was  to  give 
the  firit  place  \o  jufiice^  the  lecond  to  charily,  and  the 
third  to  genercfit)'.  Of  her  eminence  in  the  lad-  vir- 
tue, very  unufual  inflances  nnight  be  produced  \  fiicii 
a* five  hundred  p^)unds  a  year  given  to  one  relation, 
three  thoufand  pounds  at  one  time,  to  another,  thrct; 
hundred  guineas  (all  Ihe  had  at  the  time)  and  larg-; 
promifes  ot  more, 'to  a  young  lady  whole  fortune  was 
much  impaired  by  thcfouth-feafcherne. 

While  Ihe  thus  adorned  iier  ChriMian  profeflion, 
and  cKhibiced  the  beauty  of  holincfs  \i\  her  life,  fhc 
fenfibly  felt  that  the  principal  feat  of  religion  is  with- 
in, in  the  h'ulJen  man  of  the  heart.  Accordingly,  hf^r 
eye  was  ever  there,  ro^lbe  that  the  f<3urce  and  princi- 
ples of  her  actions  were  cleanfedfiom  every  mixtare, 
were  urutainted  with  felfilhncfs  and  unfullied  by  vain- 
glory. She  carefully  obferved  the  bias  and  motions 
of  her  heart  ;  and  was  anxious  to  find  the  power  of  {\\\ 
weakened  ancl  dclUoyed  there.  She  lived  a  hiJdtn 
Jife  ;  a  life  o^  faith  in  tlie  blood  and  righteoufnefs  of 
her  Redeemer,  accounting  her  own  righteoufnefs  and 
bed  works  as  noihing,  Ihidlly  marking,  and  penitent- 
ly lamenting,  her  daily  hns  and  lliort-comings.  Nor 
coidd  any  one  manrfelt  a  more  imaffccled  rcludance 
than  file,  at  heisrin^  any  thing  fpoken  in  her  praife. 

In  this  courfe  of  piety  did  Ihe  walk  clofely  with 
her  God,  and  tlius  brightly  did  Ihe  fhine,  an  example 
of  every  virtue,  through  a  period  of  aimed  thirty- 
years.  Bat  we  mud  novv  accompany  her  to  her  clcf- 
ing  fcene. 

Her  evening  correfpondcd  with  her  day;  or  rather, 
her  hn\  went  down  witli  an  improved  ludre.  She  had 
received,  in  early  life,  a  contufion  in  her  right  bread, 
wliich  left  a  fmall  inward  tumor,  which  gave  little 
pain,  and  was  lor  a  long  tirn^  little  noticed.      But 

about 


22^  Memoirs  of 

about  twenty  months  before  her  death,  it  nfTumed  a 
formidable  afpedl  ;  in  confequence  of  which,  appli- 
cation was  made  to  Dr.  Johnfon,  a  clergyman  who 
was  eminent  for  his  fkill  in  furgery.  Immediately 
en  examination,  he  gave  his  opinion  that  the  part  af- 
fected mud  be  feparated  from  the  body.  This  notice, 
which  threw  her  family  into  the  ulmofl:  confterna- 
tion  and  didrefs,  was  received  by  the  lady  herfelf,. 
with  perfect  calmnefs  and  ferenity.  She  declared 
ihat  (lie  would  not  wiili  to  be  out  of  her  prefent  fitu- 
r.ilon  for  all  the  world,  nor  would  fhe  exchange  it 
lor  any  other,  at  any  price.  Accordiugly,  without 
miy  change  of  her  temper,  with  great  fubmidion, 
and  even  cheerfulnefs,  ilie  paiTed  the  time  which  pre- 
ceded the  operation, as  one  greatly  inditFerent  whether 
jife  or  death  would  be  its  confequence. 

When  the  important  crifis  arrived,  every  precaution 
was  taken  to  fecure  a  niccefsfui  operation.  It  was 
performed  with  great  flcill  and  accuracy,  her  hands 
being  held  by  men  of  lirength.  But  they  might  have 
bjen  held  by' a  fpider's  web.  A  fpedalor  would  have 
tl>.}iTght  her  ileOi  as  infcnfible  to  pain,  as  her  fpirit 
was  in  reality  fuperior  to  it.  She  exhibited  no  re- 
ludance,  no  ftruggle,  not  even  a  complaint,  except- 
h\',!i  that  toward  the  clofe  of  the  very  diftreulng  ope- 
lauon,  Ihe  heaved  a  figh,  fuch  as  iriay  efcape  the 
breaii  of  any  compafiionate  reader  in  perullng  this 
account.  The  foflowing  night  was  not  a.  night  of 
much  ileep,  but  it  was  a  feafon  of  truly  celeftial  reft. 
Iler  fpirit  magnified  the  Lord  for  all  his  gocdnefs  to 
her  foul  and  body  ;  efpecially  for  his  out-ftretched 
arm  vifible  in  her  receiit  deliverance.  AH  her  pow- 
ers were  delightfully  e:;ercifed  in  acts  of  love,  grati- 
tude and  adoration. 

Sooner  than  was  expeded,  flie  was  in  a  confidera- 
ble  meafure  refiored  ; 'and  with  every  imprcvement 
which  (he  could  devife,  Tne  returned  to  her  former 
tenor  of  life  j  devoting  herfelf  with  new  ardor  and 

applicatioa. 


Lady  Elizabeth  Hastings.         229 

application  to  the  glory  of  God,  and    the  benefit   ot 
mankind. 

She  favv  and  felt  the  great  importance  of  learning?' 
as  a  handmaid  to  religion.  She  was  the  more  capable 
of  properly  appreciating  it,  as  (he  poiTeircd  no  fmall 
fliare  herfelf^  being  able  to  compofe  well,  and  to 
point  out  the  excellencies  and  defers  of  authors,  iri 
w^hich  ihedifplayed  a  very  corre6t  tai^e  and  judgm.ent, 
efpecially  on  fubjeits  of  pra6lical  divinity,  ■ 

Thus  impreiTed,  fne  conceived  that  to  provide  for 
the  promotion  of  learning  in  fchools  and  univerfities, 
was  a  proper  obje£l  of  her  care  and  munificence.— 
Accordingly,  fhe  bequeathed  an  important  part  of  her 
eitate  to  3iieens  College,  Oxford,  for  the  education  01 
fludents  for  the  miniitry. 

Finding  herfelf  feeble,  ilie  employed  much  time  in 
providing  for-  carrying  into  the  beft  effeti  the  fettle- 
rnents  ihe  had  made  for  benevolent  purpofes,  and  for 
guarding  them  againft  the  poflibility  of  perverfion  or 
depredation,'  To  this  end  ihe  digefled  and  improved 
feveral  fchemes  with  great  ability  and  penetration. 
-  Her  labors  of  love  were  fhorljy  to  be  exchanged 
for  reil.-  Her  diftempcr,  only  reprelfed  for  a  time, 
broke  out  with  increafed  malignity.  Butfl)^  had  been 
fo  long  in  the  fchool  of  afflidion,  had  experienced  ih 
much  of  its  falutary  effefts,  and  was  fo  much  in  con- 
templation of  the  infinitely  greater  fufFerings  of  her 
Savior,  that  fhe  wa-s  but  little  moved.  She  trufted  in 
God,  and  was  favored  with  uich  a  lively  profpecland 
hope  of  an -eternal  weight  of  glory,  as  made  her  af- 
fiiclions  light,-  Though  for  many  months  fhe  was 
unable,  through  the  extremity  of  her- pain,  to  turn 
herfelf  in  bed,  yet  her- mind  fecmed  wholly  occupied 
with  divine  things,  and  preifed  forward,  with  una^ 
bated  ardor,  to  new  attainments  in  holinefs.  Though 
ihe  had  little  appetite  to  cat,  flie  could  find  ftreng'th 
for  prayer  ;  and  fufFered  fcarce  an  hour  in  the  day  ta 
j>aXs  wiihcut  it.  She  was  much  concerned  to  pro- 
V  2  mote 


230 


Memoirs  o^ 


mote  the  fpiritual  benefit  of  thofe  around  her.  And 
finding  that  feme  of  her  family  who  had  lefs  acqui- 
efcence  than  herfelf,  in  the  divine  will,  rehifed  to  be 
comforted,  fhe  exerted  herfelf  to  mitigate  their  grief,, 
fuppreffing  every  complaint  that  could  be  fuppreiTed^ 
and  affuming  as  much  as  polhble,  the  appearance  of 
cheerfulnefs. 

In  the  near  approach  of  death,  fhe  waslikewife  fb- 
licitous  to  do  good  more  extenfively.  She  wrote  miany 
letters  to  her  friends  and  acquaintance,  and  after  fhe 
"became  unable  to  write,  didlated  others,  flrikingly  dif- 
playing  the  bleirednefsofreligion,explaining  its  nature, 
and  prefiingits  necefhly.  Great  numbers  of  perfons  of 
Jill  defcriptions,  reforted  to  her  houfe,  to  witnefs  in 
her  the  power  and  fupports  of  religion,  and  to  receive 
.her  counfel.  With  thefe  fhe  converfed  in  a  very  edify- 
ing and  heavenly  manner,  while  fhe  had  (Irength  to 
fpeak,  and  was  careful  to  have  others  with  her,  who 
mic^ht  give  them  feafonable  inftrudion  and  admoni- 
tion. Nor  did  fhe,  amidft  her  greateft  weaknefs  and 
diilrefs,  lofe  her  care  and  tendernefs  for  the  indigent, 
but  fent  large  fums  for  their  relief.  Forty  guineas  fhe 
de/otcd  at  once,  to  the  releafc  of  aperfon  who  was  im- 
prifoned  f«r  debt,  whom  Ihe  had  never  fecn,  but  had 
heard  favorably  fpoken  of.  Her  compaflion  feemed 
peculiarly  drawn  forth  toward  fuch  as  were  pious  as 
vv'ellas  af^ifted.  "Where,"  would  fhe  often  fay, 
*'  is  there  a  poor  member  of  Chrift,  whom  I  can  com- 
fort and  refrefli  ?" 

She  frequently  invited  to  her  bed  perfons  eminent 
5n  holinefs,  fuch  as  fhe  had  been  intimate  with,  or 
were  known  to  her  by  report  ;  warming  and  refrefh- 
ing  her  fpirit  with  them,  enjoying  fweet  communion, 
and  imparting,  as  well  as  receiving,  fpiritual  light, 
comfort  and  If  rength. 

She  had  been  a  veryconflant  and  exemplary  attend- 
ant on  public  worfhip,   not  only  in  health,    but  after 
llie  had  become  very  fssble.     And  whsn  it  was  total- 
ly 


Lady  Elizabeth  Hastings.  23E 

]y  impofTible  for  her  to  vifit  the  houfe  of  God,  fhe 
introduced  his  folemn  worlliip  to  her  own  dwelling, 
and  had  the  facrament  adminiftered  to  her  every 
Lord's  day. 

She  viewed  the  approach  of  death  without  difmay. 
Her  faith  in  the  hnifhed  righteoufnefs  of  her  Re- 
deemer fupportcd  and  tranquiiized  her  foul,  and  ena- 
bled her  to  look  forward  to  the  heavenly  felicity  as 
her  red  and  her  home.  Nor  did  fhe,  for  a  confidera- 
ble  time,  appear  to  have  any  tie  to  earth,  excepting 
her  wifli  to  have  her  defigns  of  benevolence  and  chari- 
ty eftabiiflied  by  law.  In  this  refpect,  her  defire 
was  granted. 

Finding  herfelf  at  length  ready  to  launch  into  fu- 
turity, (he  allembled  her  whole  family,  that  by  her 
dying  counfels,  (he  might  imprefs  deeper  in  the 
minds  of  them  all,  the  lelTons  flie  had  inculcated  be- 
fore. The  fame  pious  care  (lie  would  have  extend- 
ed to  the  whole  village,  but  was  reftrained  by  her  phy- 
fician.  The  minii\er,  having  been  lent  for,  and  at- 
tended prayer  with  her,  foon  perceived  a  remarkable 
alteration  in  her  appearance.  She  feemed  in  an  unu- 
fual  m.annertranfported,  and almoil  overwhelmed,  with 
impreifions  of  coming  glory.  Her  very  eyes,  which 
had  long  languiOied  with  age  and  (icknefs,  exhibited 
a  furprifing  hiftre  :  and  (lie  broke  out,  with  a  raifed 
accent,  into  expreflions  like  thefe  :  "  Lord  !  \yhat  is 
it  that  I  fee  ? — O  the  greatnefs  of  the  glory  that  is 
revealed  in  me — that  is  before  me  !"  Some  time  after, 
fhe  fell  aileep.  Thus  abundant  was  her  entrance  in- 
to the  everlafting  kingdom  of  her  Lord  and  Savior. 

To  the  above  account  of  this  excellent  woman,  we 
fubjoin  what  may  be  termed  its  epitome,  as  publiOied 
in  the  Gentleman  s  JVIagazine  for  Jan.  1740. 

*'  Though  the  fplendor  of  her  birth  was  truly  great, 
it  feemed  as  it  were  eclipfed  by  her  (hining  qualities. 
She  was  genteel  in  her  mien,  polite  in  her  manner?, 
and   agreeable  in  her  converfation.     Her  judgment 

was 


^33'  Memoirs  of 

V-^as  folid,  her  regard  to  friendfliip  facred,  her  fenfe  cf 
honor  llricl  to  the  lall  degree,  and  (he  was  of  fo  rare 
modefty  and  humility,  that  a  more  difagreeable  thing 
could  not  be  done,  than  publifhing  her  good  deed*, 
and  rendering  her  due  praiie.  She  was,  above  all,  a 
fmcere  Chriilian.  Her  piety  toward  God  was  ardent 
znd  unafFecled,  and  her  benevolence  to  mankind  was 
fuch  as  good  Angels  are  blefled  \\ith>  Thoufands 
had  Ihe  comforted  and  relieved  ;  m.any,  enriched  and 
advanced.  Her  patience  and  refignation  under  her 
jaft  long  and  tedious  ficknefs,  her  mourning  for  the 
fins  of  men,  her  unwearied  endeavors  for  their  eter- 
nal welfare,  her  generous  and  charitable  appoint- 
ments, her  tender  exprelfions  to  her  relations,  iriends 
and  fervants,  require  whole  pages  to  fct  them  in  a 
proper  light.  In  ihort,  fcarce  any  age  has  afforded  a 
greater  blefiing to  many,  or  a  brighter  example  to  all.'' 


Mrs  jane  RATCLIFFE, 


X  AER  childhood  and  youth  were  too  much 
devoted  to  vanity.  But  it  pleafed  a  fovereign  and  gra*. 
cious  God  effectually  to  call  her  to  himfelf  Toon  after 
her  marriage,  by  th^  mlniftry  of  Mr.  Nicholas  By- 
field,  whofe  powerful  and  inQruclive  preaching  was 
ftcondcd  by  the  lofs  of  her  firH:  child  ;  an  event  wluch 
ihe  laid  deeply  to  heart,  anU  found  greatly  falutary,  as 
well  as  painiul.  • 

Her 


Mrs  Jane  Ratglif?e.  233 

Her  early  exercifes  on  the  fubjed  of  religion  were 
of  a  very  cliftrefiing  kind,  and  often  full  of  terror,. 
inch  as  feemed  to  border  on  defpair.  But  after  a  time, 
it  pleafed  Him  who  tnaketh  fore,  and  hindeth  up,  who 
ivoundeth,  and  whojz  hands  make  vjhole,  to  quiet  her 
troubled  fpirit,  and  favor  her  with  a  comforting  af» 
furance  of  his  love. 

By  an  attentive  perufal  of  fermons,  and  ether  pious 
books,  efpecially  the  Bible,  and  by  frequent  conver-- 
fation  with  the  moll  informed  and  judicious  Ckrifti- 
ansjfiie  foon  became  a  proficient  in  religion,  and  was 
very  diligent  in  inltrucling  her  family  in  divine 
things. 

She  concerned  herfelf  but  little  in  v.-orldly  affairs  ; 
and  vvhen  duty  required  that  they  fnould  employ  her 
time  and  her  hands,  her  heart  was  in  better  things.— 
In  thefe  flie  flione.  It  might  be  truly  faid,  that  the 
word  of  God  dwelt  richly  in  her  in  all  wifdom.  She 
was  well  prepared  either  to  counfel  or  coinfort,  to  re- 
prove or  defend,  as  occafion  called.  Yet  (he  was  tar 
from  talkative  ;  and  fo  fearing  of  hv_r  fpeecl^that. 
thofe  who  admired  the  prudence  of  her  converfation, 
admired  that  of  her  filence  too.  Efpecially  was  Ihe 
{Tuarded  again  ft  fpeaking  evil  of  any,  and  of  the  ab- 
fent  above  all.  She  cenfured  others  little  ;  herfelf 
often. 

She  was  a  vv^oman  of  a  compofed  fpirit,  and  of  re- 
markable difcretion  ;  direding  her  condud  by  the 
clidates  of  grace  and  reafon,  v/ithout  any  debafmg 
mixtures  of  paflion.  H' at  any  time,  duty  Teemed  to 
require  a  warmth  in  reprehending,  that  v/armth  was 
fo  tempered,  as  that  nothing  in  her" words,  looks  or- 
geftures  contradided  or  di (honored  religion. 

Though  Ihe  pofftriTed  eminent  gifts,  fhe  was  far 
from  any  affectation  of  fingularity  ;  and  though  flie 
had  lefs  to  do  with  worldly  things  than  mod  in  her  fi~ 
tuation  would  have  had,  yet  in  the  management  cf 
them,  Ihe  was  provideiit  and  prudent. 


2^4  Memoirs  o  f 

As  her  faith  and  knowledge  of  God  were  remarkable^ 
fo  was  her  devotion.  She  converfed  much  with  her 
Maker,  not  only  in  the  public  ordinances,  but  in  fe- 
cret ;  and  hud  gracious  returns  frona  him.  He  fent 
forth  the  Spirit  of  grace  and  fupphcation  into  her 
heart,  whereby  ihe  cried  Abbay  Father.  She  was  fa- 
vored with  great  freedom  in  prayer  :  not  only  with  a 
fervor,  and  holy  importunity  of  fpirit,  but  fuch  a  per- 
tinence and  rich  variety  of  expreifion,  as  gave  can  fe 
to  v/onder  hov/  one  fo  fparing  of  words  in  common 
converfation,  ftiould  be  fo  eloquent  in  her  intercourfe 
with  God.  Yet  her  fpeech  was  frequently  interrup- 
ted by  floods  of  tears. 

Such  was  the  opinion  which  fome  of  her  intirnale 
female  friends  entcriainsd  of  her  gift  and  prevalence 
in  prayer,  that  when  fick,  or  in  great  diilrefs,  either 
of  body  or  mind,  they  would  foraetimes  prevail  with 
her  to  pray  with  them  ;  and  frequently  were  thefe 
pious  and  benevolent  interceflions  followed  by  remark'- 
able  interpofitions  of  divine  mercy.  A  friend  of  hers 
who  lodged  with  her  for  feveral  weeks  in  London,  and 
thus  (liared  in  her  daily  devotions,  declared  that  ex- 
cepting the  interruptions  of  fighs  and  tears,  ihe  pour-- 
ed  out  her  foul  in  a  moft  remarkable  abundance  and 
variety  of  pertinent  exprefhons. 

V/hen  the  heaft  is  full  of  love,  the  mouth  is  apt  to 
be  filled  with  praife  of  the  beloved  objecl.  When 
this  pious  woman  found  an  opportunity  to  turn  the 
difcoiirfe  on  her  favorite  topic,  and  to  fpeak  of  her 
heavenly  Father,  it  was  with  fuch  a  relKh,  fuch  rever- 
ence and  affeclion,  as  if  her  foul  would  leap  out  of  her 
lips  into  the  ears  of  ctherr,  and  kindle  the  fam.e  holy 
fire  in  their  hearts,  which  burned  in  her  own.  Shs 
longed  that  others  might  with  her,  tafte  and  fee  the 
goodnefs  of  the  Lord,  and  rival  her,  in  religious  love. 
And  great  washer  joy,  when  a  finnerwas  converted^ 
®x  ?^iy  fubjed  of  grace  belter  enabled  to  promote  xh.% 


Mrs  Jane  R.ATCLIFFE.  23^ 

•g'iory  of  God,  the  end  at  which  fhe  aimed  in  her  dif- 
courfe  concerning  him. 

After  having  given  vent  to  her  heart  in  fpiritual 
conjerencej  to  the  great  delight  and  edification  ot  her 
friends,  {he  would  frequently  complain  of  lier  own 
exprcflions,  as  being  faint  and  flat,  and  fo  far  below 
what  was  fuitable  to  the  r.iajefty  of  the  great  Jehovah, 
that  all  the  acceptance  (he  defiicd,  wVls  but  pa-rdon  for 
her  prefumplion,  in  taking  upon  h^r  to  fpeak  of  hi.s 
excellency  in  terms  fo  very  poor  and  inadequate. 

She  had  a  moil  tender  love  to  the  people  of  God, 
and  to  his  worihip.  The  progrefs  and  profpcrity  of 
religion,  whether  at  home  or  abroad,  fhe  preferred  a- 
bove  her  chief  joy.  And  it  was  a  great  nffiiclion  to 
her  to  hear  any  ill  tidings  of  a  good  man,  or  a  good 
lufe. 

She  highly  prized  the  word  of  God,  and  in  the  Sa- 
crament of  the  Lord's  fupper,  (he  felt  fiich  a  divine 
rcfrefnmcnt,  that  with  peculiar  propriety  it  might  be 
fald  of  her,  that  fhe  had  meat  to  eat,  which  others 
knew  not  of. 

If  by  any  infnperable  obfiacles,  fne  was  detained 
from  public  v/orlhip,  her  foul  was  fervently  longing 
to  be  there.  Far  from  abfenting  herfelf,  with  fome, 
on  flight  occafions,  fhe  would. ottcn  oblige  her  feeble 
body  to  carry  her  to  the  honfe  of  God,  though  the  day 
before,  flic  had  been  confined  to  her  chainber,  or  even 
to  her  bed.  And  it  was  remarkable,  that  though  by 
this  zeal,  her  health  was  much  hazarded,  it  feldom 
received  any  material  injury. 

She  was  greatly  free  from  inordinate  attachments  to 
the  world,  particularly  its  gratifications.  She  not  only 
■  abandoned  the  amufements  which  had  engaged  her 
youth,  and  exercifed  a  remarkable  abftinence  in  her 
diet,  making  it  no  objedl  to  gratify  her  appetite,  but 
kept  frequent  fafts  in  fecret.  She  found  by  happy  ex- 
perience    the    eflScacy  of    falling    and    prayer,    to 

ftrcngthen 


236  Memoirs  of 

flrengthcn  her   for  fpiritual  conflicts,  and  to    elevate 
her  foul  to  God  and  heaven. 

So  fenfibly  did  llie  cleave  to  God  as  her  portion, 
and  find  her  happinefs  in  the  riches  of  his  love,  that 
jQie  had  little  regard  to  wealth.  Though  flie  vv'ell  knew 
there  v/as  no  certain  connexion  between  poverty  and 
grace,  and  though  (he  was  frugal  and  provident  in  the 
concerns  of  her  family,  yet  the  often  beibught  the 
Lord  rallier  to  make  and  keep  her  poor,  than  fuller 
her  heart  to  fink  down  from  her  Maker,  and  go  aftray 
after  Mammon, 

It  might  be  truly  faid,  that  fiie  honored  God  with 
her  iubftance.  No  mifer  could  be  more  gratified J^ix. 
laying  up  money  fur  himfelf,  than  (lie,  in  fpending  it 
for  lier  Maker.  She  was  much  atlii6led  to  hear  of  the 
parfimony  of  fome  in  the  city  of  Chefler,  where  (he 
lived,  in  regard  to  the  maintenance  of  the  miniftry. 
She  declared  fne  would  rather  be  at  the  charge  of  all 
the  contributions  herfelf,  if  her  eilate  could  bear  it, 
than  that  God  iliould  be  murmured  at,  or  the  wages 
of  his  work  unwillingly  paid. 

Her  fervent  affedion  to  God,  and  defire  to  be  with 
him,  induced  a  fear  not  very  common.  She  was  a- 
fraid  (he  (hould  have  a  long  life.  Death,  which  is  an 
objed  of  terror  to  moll,  fhe  (o  much  wiihed,  that  her 
friends  found  themfelves  condrained  to  plead  with 
her  to  be  pleafed  with  life  ;  though  with  little  fuccefs, 
as  appears  from  the  two  following  Statements  v/hich 
ilie  drew  up  for  her  own  ufe  in  the  more  immediate 
profpedl:  of  death. 

'*  Firjly  ivhy  I  dcjflre  to  die, 

'*  I  defire  to  die,  becaufel  want,  while  I  live  here, 
the  glorious  prefence  of  God,  which  I  love  and  long 
for  ;  and  the  fweet  fellowfnip  of  angels  and  faints, 
who  would  be  as  glad  of  me,  as  I  of  them,  and  would 
entertain  m.e  with  unwearied  delisht. 

«'  I  defu-e 


Mrs.  Jane  Ratcliffe.  237 

**  I  defire  to  die,  becaufe  while  I  live,  I  fliall  want 
the  perteclion  of  my  nature,  and  be  as  an  ellranged, 
tanifhed  child  from  my  Father's  houfe. 

*'  I  defixe  to  die,  becaufe  I  would  not  live  to  offend 
fo  good  a  God,  and  grieve  his  holy  Spirit.  For  bis 
loving  kindnefs  is  l^etter  than  lifc^  and  He  is  abundant 
in  mercy  to  me  ;  and  it  often  lies  as  a  heavy  load  on 
my  heart,  to  think  of  difpleafmg  him. 

**  I  defire  to  die,  becaufe  this  world  is  generally  in- 
fe6ted  with  the  plague  of  fm,  and  fome  have  this 
plague-fore  running  upon  them,  and  I  myfelf  am 
tainted  with  the  fame  difeafe.  So  that  while  I  live 
here,  I  can  be  in  no  phce,  nor  in  any  company,  where 
I  fliall  not  be  m  danger  of  being  infected,  or  of  in- 
fecting others.  And  if  this  world  hates  me  becaufe 
I  endeavor  to  follov/  goodnefs,  how  would  it  rejoice 
if  my  foot  fliould  flip  !  How  woful  would  my  life  be 
to  me,  if  I  fliould  give  occafion  to  the  world  to  tri- 
umph or  blafpheme  ! 

**  I  cannot  but  defire  to  die,  when  I  confider  that 
fm,  like  a  Icprofy,  hath  fo  corrupted  me,  that  there  is 
no  foundnefs  in  me.  My  mind,  my  memory,  ray  will 
and  affedions,  and  my  very  confcience,  are  fall  im- 
pure. In  every  faculty  of  my  foul,  there  is  a  mifcr- 
able  mixture  of  vile  infeclion,  which  makes  me  weary 
of  my  life.  As  the  difeafe  is  in  this  world  incurable^ 
and  my  infeparable  companion,  I  can  go  no  where  to 
avoid  it.  There  is  no  buiinefs  I  can  difpatch  relat- 
ing to  my  happinefs,  but  there  is  a  mutiny  in  m.y 
heart.  Thougli  the  works  of  God  are  all  fair,  yet 
thei-e  are  in  my  nature  foniany  defeds,  infufficiencies, 
miltakes  and  tranfgreflions,  that  I  may  fay  v/ith  David, 
Innumerable  evils  have  compnjfed  me  -about  ;  ?ny  iniqui- 
ties have  taken  hold  upon  me,  fo  that  I  am  not  able  t§ 
lo'-Ji  up.  I  therefore  defire  heaven  for  holinefs,  ratlier 
than  for  happinefs,  that  I  may  fm  no  mere.  I  de- 
fire that  condition  in  which  I  luay  mod  glorify  God, 
yy  *•  I  dcHre 


'^B  Memoirs  op 

'*  I  defirc  to  die,  becaiifc  of  the  devil's  malignant 
and  perpetual  affaults.  I  can  ftand  no  where  before 
the  Lord  on  earth,  but  one  devil  or  another  is  at  my 
right  hand,  and  I  mud:  of  necefiity  enter  into  conflict 
with  them,  and  their  temptations,  and  be  butFeted  and 
^ored  by  them,  which  is  a  thoufand-fold  vvorfe  than 
death.  It  is  more  cafy  to  wrelile  ivUh  flcjh  and  bloody 
than  %vUh  principalities  and  powers,  vjith  Jpiritiial 
ivickednefleSfand  the  rulers  of  the  darkncjs  of  this  world; 
for  they  are  fubtil  and  cruel,  and,  like  roaring  lions, 
fhey  go  about,  feeking  zvhojn  they  may  devour. 

'*  I  defire  to  die,  bccaufe  by  death  I  fhall  red  from 
ihe  hard  labors  of  this  life. 

''  I  dcfire  to  die,  becaufe  notliing  in  this  world  can 
give  me  folid  and  durable  contentment.  I  like  life 
the  lefs,  and  have  the  greater  defire  of  death,  when  I^ 
confider  the  mifery  that  may  come  both  on  my  body 
and  eftate.  Fearful  alterations  may  come;  wars  may 
come,  and  all  the  defolations  which  accompany  theni, 
and  I  may  be  left  in  the  hands  of  the  fonsot  violence. 
Befides,  I  daily  fuffer  the  lofs  of  my  friends,  the  com- 
panions of  my  life,  and  the  channels  ot  much  pieafure 
to  me  \  and  thofe  whom  I  lofe  by  my  life,  1  fliall  find 
by  my  death,  and  enjoy  in  another  wcrld,  to  all  eter- 
nity. As  to  leaving  my  children,  it  doth  not  much 
trouble  me  ;  for  that  God  who  hath  given  them  life 
nnd  breath  and  all  they  have,  while  I  am  living,  can 
provide  for  thehi  when  I  am  dead.  My  God  will  be 
their  God  if  they  are  his  ;  and  if  they  are  not,  what 
comfort  would  it  be  for  me.to  live  r  My  life  would 
be  exceedingly  bitter  to  m.e,  if  1  Ihould  fee  them  dif- 
lionor  God,  whom  I  fo  much  love  r" 

Such  were  the  rcafons  why  (he  defired  to  die.  The 
following  are  i\v^  Rcafo^is  why  pe  did  not  fear  death, 

"  I  fear  not  death,  becaufe  it  is  but  the  feparation 
of  the  body  from  the  foul,  and  that  is  but  a  fhadovv  of 
;he  body  of  rkath;  iJ.lom,  7.  24.)     Whereas  the  fepar- 
ation 


Mrs.  Jane  Ratcliffe,  23^> 

ation  of  the  foul  from  God  by  fin,  [Ifa.  59.  2.)  and  of 
loul  and  body/;r  fin,  is  death  indeed. 

"  I  fear  not  death,  becaiife  it  is  an  enemy  that  hith" 
been  often  vanquillied,  and  becaufe  I  am  armed  for  it, 
and  the  weapons  of  my  warfare  are  mighty  through. 
God,  and  I  am  aifured  of  vitftory, 

**  I  do  not  fear  death  for  the  pain  of  it,  for  I  ani 
perfuaded  I  have  endured  as  great  pains  in  life,  as  t 
fhali  find  in  death,  and  death  will  be  the  cure  of  all 
my  pains.'  Bcfide,  Chriil  died  a  terrible  and  curled 
death  :  and  fo  any  kind  of  death  may  be  blefifed  to  me. 
And  that  God  who  hath  greatly  loved  me  in  life,  will 
not  negle6l  me  in  death  ;  but  his  Spirit  will  rtrength- 
en  and  comfort  me,  all  the  time  of  my  combat. 

"  Ido  not  fear  death  for  any  lofs  ;  for  I  Ihall  only 
lofe  my  body  by  it  ;  and  that  is  but  a  prifon  to  my 
foul  \  an  old  rotten  houfe,  a  tattered  garment.  Nay, 
I  ihall  not  lofe  that  ;  for  I  fhall  have  it  rcftored  at  my 
Savior's  fecond  coming,  much  better  tb.an  it  now  is  : 
for  this  vile  body  (hall  be  like  the  boclv  of  ChriH  ;• 
and  by  death  I  Ihall  obtain  a  far  better  life." 

As  an  incentive  to  divine  love,  and  as  matter  for 
meditation  and  thankfgiving  on  her  death-bed,  (he 
prepared  a  compendious  account  of  God's'  principal 
mercies  to  her,  as  follows  :■ 

**  How  fhall  I  praife  God  ?      i.  For  my  convertl'Tn, 

2.  For  his  Word,  both  in  refpc<^l  to  my  aifeftion  fof 
it,  and  the  wonderful  comforts  I  liave  received  from  it. 

3.  For  hearing  my  prayers,-  4.  For  godly  forrov/. 
5.  For  fellowship  with  the  godly.  6.  For  joy  in  the 
holy  Ghofl.  7.  For  the  de fire  of  death.  8:  For  con- 
tempt of  the  worlds-  9'.  For  private  helps  and  com- 
forts. 10.  For  giving  me  fome  ftrengih  againil  m/ 
lin.  II.  For  preferving  me  from  grofs  evils,  both 
before  and  after  my  calling,  ^c.  ^  /:, 

She  maniteiled  her  love  to  God  by  keeping%is  com- 
maEidments,     To  know  that  any.  thing  was  enjoine.^ 

or 


243  Memoirs  op 

©r  lorbidden  bv  him,  was  ever  fufficient  to  determine 
her  pra(5^ice.  Nolhirig  was  with' her  fo  fmall,  but 
that  his  Word  could  give  it  weight  enough  to  bow. 
her  foul  to  obedience.  If  the  thing  required  was 
fmall,  file  apprehended  that  the  contempt  or  ncgle^l 
of  it  mull:  incur  aggravated  guilt  ;  and  that  the  eafier 
the  duty,  the  greater  would  be  the  difobedience  if  it 
were  left  undone.  In  this  way  fSie  advanced  in  fanc= 
tification,  and  kept  at  a  diibnce  from  great  offences  : 
for  he  who  is  afraid  of  a  fmall  lin,  will  not  eafily  be 
tempted  to  commit  a  great  one. 

She  was  very  tender  of  the  abfent,  and  would  fufFer 
3:!either  her  tongue  nor  her  ears  to   be    guilty   of    any. 
wrong  to  them.     She  confidered  the  robbery  of  repu- 
tation as  the  Vv'oril  of  robberies.      Far  from  charging- 
them  with  imaginary  faults,  fhe    feldcm    mentioned, 
5^nd    never  aggravated   thofe    lins    which    were    molt- 
known,  nor  difclofed  thofe  which  were  fecret.       She 
j^ever  denied,  nor  detracTted  from  the  virtues  of  any. 
Though  her    hatred  of   i'ni   v/as    fuch   as   became  a 
Chriftlan,  yet  ilic  knew  how  to  diftinguifh    between-.. 
iin  and  the  fmner  :   and  v.hile  flie   was    incapable  of 
bcitig  reconciled  to  the  former,  the  latter  had  her  love 
and  companion. 

Her  charity  was   regulated    by    the   directions  o 
Scripture,  which  (he  wrote  down  for  her  guidance,  in- 
four  particulars,  thus  : 

''  I.   I  mull  give  readily,    Jol;  31. 16.  Prcv,  3.  28,, 
I  Ti?n.  6.  18. 

2.  1  muft  give  fccretly,  Mai/b.  6.  3. 

3.  I  muft  give  liberally,  2  Cor.  8.  12.  and  9.  6. 

4.  1  muit  give  cheerfully,  2  Cor.  8.  12." 

She  difiributed  her  alms  according  to  her  own  abli- 
ity,  and  the  neceffities  of  others.  She  preferred  giving, 
a  little  to  many,  to  giving  mwch  to  a  few ;  and  fo  or- 
dered her  charity  as  not  to  exhauft  her  whole  ftock  on 
one,  or  a  few  occafions,  but  to  have  always  fomething 
to  communicate.     If  in  cafe.s  peculiarly  important  or 

intereftingj 


Mrs.  Jan'e  RATCLii«  PE.  241 

interefting,  her  donations  were  not   magnificent,    \hi 
obllacle  was  in  her  circumilances,  not  in  her  mind. 

She  performed  this  duty  with  great  clieerhilnefi,'. 
She  bellowed  notliing  on  herfelf  with  greater  alacrity 
than  (he  imparted  uhat  fne  could  fpare,  for  the  relict' 
of  the  diftreded  :  nor  could  a  thief  be  more  fdent  and 
fccrct  in  ftealing,  than  (he  generally  was  in  giving. 
Few  indeed  did  f^  much  good,  with  fo  little  appear- 
ance of  It,  As  to  the  objects  of  her  charity,  Pne  cl/,l 
good  to  ally  but  efpcctally  to  the  houjehold  of  faith. 

Her  benevolence  and  aiTection  to  her  friends  were 
very  great,  but  not  coniined  to  them.  She  had  no  en- 
emy (()  bitter,  whom  (lie  could  not  lovf.  Thougli 
quick  in  perceiving  what  tended  to  the  di(\urbance  of 
peace  and  patience,  her  ("erenity  ofmind  was  feldom  ir;- 
terrupted.  In  return  for  injuries,  flic  could  more  eaf- 
ily  pray  and  weep,  than  exprefs  lentiments  of  unkind- 
nefs  and  indignation,  either  by  actions  or  looks.  In 
cafe  of  a  mifunderflanding  between  herfe)f  and  others, 
fhe  enjoyed  the  freedom  of  her  judgment,  but  never 
felt,  at  liberty  to  withdraw  her  aftedioii  from  them, 
or  to  pats  unimproved  an  opportunity  to  do  ihen\ 
good.  ■  She  hated  nothing  but  tin. :  and  flic  hated  that 
mofl:  of  all  in  herfelf. 

She  tenderly  fyinpathized  in  the  fuffciings  of  tic 
Church  of  (jod,and  of  particular  faints.  In  all  theii* 
afflictions  (lie  was  afHicied.  Yet  thcu<^h  (he  fenfibly 
felt  4he  trials  of  others,  (he  fuflained  her  own  with 
remarkable  fortitude  and  patience.  If  flie  receivcil 
news  of  lofli^s,  as  flie  fometimes  did  of  great  ones,  (he 
compofed  her  fpirit  with  fuch  reileclions  as  thefe.;' 
«'  It  is  that  God  who  gave  all,  who  now  tijkes  away  > 
fome  :  why  (hould  I  take  it  ill  ?  Ue  would  not  ha\e-;, 
me  be  in  love  with,  or  trufl  in  uncertain  riches, which' 
were  never  true  to  any  who  truflcd  them,  but  to  triifi: 
upon  hirnfelf  :  and  I  willingly  renounce  them,  to  red 
upon  lum.  He  can,  if  he  fee  it  good,  recompenfe  the. 
lofs  in  the  like,  or  Ibme  belter  kind,  li  he  tal::.: 
W-  ^  more 


%,\-%  Memoirs  o? 

more  from  me,  there  -will  will  yet  be  many  poorer 
than  myfelf  :  and  if  He  takes  away  all  my  goods,  He 
can  give  me  contentment  without  them,  for  He  is  all- 
fufficient  ;  and  fo,  thongh  I  have  nothings  I  may  yet 
fee  as  pojjfejjlng  all  things.  The  world  and  I  mull  part ; 
and  whether  we  be  loofened  from  each  other  by  de- 
grees, or  torn  afunder  all  at  once,  all  is  one  to  me. 
What  God  choofes,  is  mofl:  for  his  glory,  and  my 
good,  if  I  murmur  not  againft  him,  but  willingly,  as  is 
jny  prayer,  give  way  to  his  will." 

Her  patience  was  likewife  much  tried  by  her  bod- 
ily fufferings.  She  v/as  afflicSted  with  a  painful  and". 
iingering  ficknefs,  to  which  were  applied  the  mod 
uncomfortable  medicines ;  fo  that  fhe  endured  not  on- 
.ly  the  anguifli  of  her  difeafe,  but,  with  the  woman 
\\\  thegofpel,  ^*  fufFered  many  things  of  the  phyficians.'* 
To  all  this  was  added  the  trial  of  deformity.  Her 
.lower  jaw  was  fo  fallen,  that  (he  could  not  make  it 
meet  with  the  upper.  Her  mouth  was  diftorted  and: 
drawn  awry  toward  her  ear  ;  fo  that  with  much  diffi- 
culty her  food  was  conveyed  by  an  oblique  paifage  to, 
lier  throat.  Thefe  trials  (in  fome  refpe6ls  enhanced  by 
her  having  once  polTelTed  uncommon  beauty)  fhe  bore 
•with  admirable  rubmiflion,  declaring  that  it  it  pleafed 
\h!&  Lord  to  continue  her  a  fpedlacle  of  deformed  mif- 
ery,  fhe  would  not  repine  at  the  allotment,  but  wil-. 
3ingly  abide  it,  till  He  freed  her  body  from  difeafe,  or, 
difmiifed  her  foul  by  deaih. 

The  m.odefly  and  gravity  of  her  countenance  and 
nvhole  demeanor  were  fuch  as,  without  the  aid  of  fpeech, 
to  reprove  every  thing  indecent  either  faid  or  done  in 
her  prefence.  There  v/as  in  her  afpecl,  mingled  with 
much  fweetnefs,  a  majefty  which  frequently  overawed 
the  moft  abandoned. 

In  humility  flie  was  a  great  proficient.  She  could 
endure  contradiction,  and  even  reproach,  without 
breaking  peace  with  any.  She  was  ever  ready  to  wave 
Iier  own  cUims^and  yield  to  the  opinions  and  demands 

of 


Mrs.  Jane  Ratcliffe.  243 

of  others,  fo  far  as  fne  could  with  a  good  confcicnce. 
In  lowlinefs  of  mind,  fhe  efteemed  others  better  than 
herfelf.  She  difavowed  the  praife  fhe  received,  though 
confidered  by  others  much  lefs  than  her  due  ;  and  gave 
place  to  thole  who  were  in  fa6l  far  below  her.  The 
reafon  of  this  was  her  intim.ate  acquaintance  with  her- 
felf, and  the  deep  fenfe  fhe  entertained  of  her  own 
failings,  while  Ihe  obferved  others  moft  for  what  was 
bell  in  them,  and  in  order  to  improve  herfelf  at  once 
by  imitating  their  excellencies,  and  being  humbled  for 
her  own  comparative  defects. 

But  mod  of  all  did  file  arraign  and  abafe  herfelf  be- 
fore her  God.  CoTiparingherown  ilns,  infinnitiesand 
wretchednefs  with  his  infinite  purity  and  majefly,  fhe 
was  filled  with  love  and  admiration  of  him,  while  fhe 
heartily  lothed  and  detefted  herfelf.  If  compelled  to 
fee  anything  in  herfelf  which  was  good,  file  alfumed 
none  of  the  glory  of  it,  but  acknowledge  the  fovereign, 
felf-moved  goodnefs  of  God  in  bellowing,  as  well  as 
his  patience  and  mercy  in  continuing  it. 

It  was  a  favorite  maxim  with  her,thar  if  it  be  good 
to  be  efieemed  virtuous,  it  is  much  better  to  be  fo  in- 
deed ;  and  that  the  fubftance  of  a  good  thing  is  always 
to  be  preferred  to  its  femblance.  Hence,  in  the  whole 
Gourfe  of  her  life,  fhe  was  eminently  fmcere,  and  hat- 
ed every  approach  to  hypocrily.  Her  deeds  of  benev- 
olence were  always  better  than  her  w^rds,  of  which 
file  was  fo  parfimonious,  that  fome  thought  her  want- 
ing in  affability.  This  being  once  luggefted  to  her, 
fhe  replied,  that  fhe  liked  not  the  lavilh  language  of 
thofe  who  have  their  mouths  full  of  compliments, 
while  their  hearts  are  contraded  and  fhut.  "  Or  if 
they  have  enough  to  maintain  fuch  liberality  ot  words, 
I  like,"  faid  ilie,  **  my  own  heart  the  worfc,  that  it  is 
jiot  fo  ready  to  attend  on  my  tongue,  as  fuddenly  to 
miniiler  affedions  fuitable  to  fuch  expreflions  of 
iricndfhip," 

In 


1m  rclii;it>!S  Dk'  in.niK.uiml  .iii  imcoiTimon  c6n!-' 
Ihim-y  inul  (liihilify.  Her  hc:nt  was  tlcaiHall  wilb 
(lOtI,  and  in  his  «.ovcnai\t.  llcr  taiilv  was  lo  lirmly. 
fixcil,  that  Iht'was  not  canicci  ahoiit  with  every  wind 
ot  cloc^hinc  Her  icli>,',ion  wt)rc  tlic  fame  in.neralconi- 
nlexiunat  hciHirll  convorllon/atidat  all  linusaltcrward. 
Hill  in  regaid  to  the  tnc<ijuri'  of  ^;racc  and  holincfj^, 
Ihe  was  liahitiiully  advancing  ;  and  her  path  was  in- 
deed that  of  the  jull,  Ihining  more  and  more  unto  the 
lurlVa  day. 

In  the  conjugal  relation,  the  was  a  bright  exntnplc. 
Sle  had  a  deep  lenfeof  tlic  importance  ot"  the  (hiiics 
oi  a  wife,  and  wrote  down  lor  her  rei^nlation  in  thi-; 
vcfpev^.u  numhtr  ot  the  le.idini;  hints  liiggellcd  ii\ 
the  lacrcd  Oracles. 

AUer  her  hulband's  death,  flic  woidd  have  exchang- 
ed her  Ihle  of  drefs  tor  one  leTs  elegant  ;  hut  on 
nu>re  m.nnre  conlideration,  (lie  apprehended  that  def- 
erence to  tlu*  memory  and  rank  of  one  who  had^  been 
rcpeateuly  Mayor  of  the  city,  and  a  member  of  V:n- 
li.iment»  "jni!:,lu  div5tate  to  her  to  retain  it  ;   which  llic 

To  Inin  up  her  charac^lcr  :  (he  was  an  atlcc^ionatc 
:ind  fuhmilVivc  wife,  a  carefnl  and  tender  mother,  .i 
?;entlo  and  beneficent  mitlrefs,  a  chaiit.ihle  neighbor, 
and  a  conllaiu,  faithliil  tVicnd.  • 

Toward  the  clofe  of  life.  Hie  v\'as  fubjedted  to  afe* 
jies  of  fits,  which  thougii  not  ditlrellini;  at  the  time, 
^verc  enfeebling  in  the  extreme,  and  tinally  left  her 
vitht)ut  the  power  of  fpeech  or  motion. 

A  little  more  than  a  week  before  Ibe  expired,  dc;\t!\ 
feemed  to  ij^ake  his  firlt  aitaidt.  A  p.ilcnefs  mer- 
fprcad  her  face,  and  was  vifiblc  at  the  cxiri^mities  of 
her  fmgers.  The  day  following,  an  ague  comiiAcnced, 
and  foon  after,  a  continued  fever,  attended  nith  fe- 
vere  pains.  Durinii  her  ficknefs,  live  had  llronsj 
Icfucs  tor  a  fpeedv  diilohition,  which  Ihc  exprelTed  ia 
th,e  words  ot  David,   i/yv/.7/ -jb'.   22,^  and  40.    13.) 


Mrs.  Jane  Ratclifff.  ±4^ 

M^he  hajlc  to  help  mc,  O  Lord  of  my  falvatmu  Be 
pjcafed,  0  Lord,  )o  deliver  me  :  0  Lordy  make  hujle  to 
help  me.  And  ihe  happy  hour  was  now  come  when 
her  beO:  dcfircs  were  to  be  granted.  She  was  helped 
in  the  foftcfl:  and  tendereft  manner  ;  for  when  it  was 
thought  that  (he  was  only  fallen  afleep,  her  foul  fled 
into  the  arms  of  her  Redeemer.  This  blefTed  con- 
Jummation  took  place,  Augult  17,  1638. 


Mrs.  CATHARINE  BRETTERG. 


I^HE  was  the  daughter  of  Mr.  John  Briien> 
and  was  born  about  the  year  1580.  She  was  educated 
In  a  very  careful  and  religious  manner.  When  achild, 
lie  was  a  ftudent  in  the  holy  Scripture?,  by  the  at- 
lentive  pcrufal  of  which,  flie  attained  fuch  a  know- 
ledge of  divine  things  as  was  of  great  \\[q  Xo  her  in 
that  forming  age.  She  manifcfted  very  early  fymp- 
toms  of  the  fear  of  God,  and  of  walking  before  hitn- 
with  aperfetJ  heart.  She  was  moderate  in  her  en- 
joyment of  the  comforts  of  life,  and  remarkably  in- 
different to  the  amufemcnts  and  fafnions  of  the  time. 
Her  pleafures  were  in  the  fancluary  of  the  Lord,  and 
the  paths  of  religion. 

The  fabbath  was  ever  dear  and  welcome  to  her  ; 
and  though  frequently  fhe  went  far  for  it,  fhc  could 
jiot  be  oontent  without  enjoying  the  miniftry  cf  the 
word.  Her  heart  was  fo  tender  and  fufceptible,  that 
ihe  was  often  obferved  to  hear  fcrmons;  to  read,  pray 


•^46  Memoirs  ©p' 

and  meditate,  with  tears.  She  made  confcience  of  af! 
fins,  even  the  leaft,  and  fuch  as  many  accounted  no 
fms.  She  was  remarkably  free  from  any  thing  light 
and  unbecoming  in  her  fpeech.  Neither  the  names 
nor  titles  of  God  were  pronounced  by  her  without 
great  reverence.  Heir  converfation  was  well  feafoned, 
and  while  it  evidently  proceeded  from  a  findified 
heart,  miniftered  grace  to  the  hearers.  Her  daily  ex- 
ercife  was  to  converfe  v/ith  God  in  reading,  prayer, 
meditation  and  fmging.  Her  delight  was  in  the 
faints,  the  excellent  of  the  earth.  The  precepts  of 
the  Lord  were  precions  to  her.  She  grew  in  grac^-; 
and  in  the  knowledge  of  Jefus  Chriil  ;  and  (hewed 
herfelf  able  to  give  a  reafon  of  the  faith  and  hope  that 
were  in  her. 

When  about  twenty  years  old,  fhe  was  married  to 
Mr.  William  Bretterg,  a  young  gentleman  who  fm- 
cerely  embraced  religion,  and  fuffered  much  for  it  at 
the  hands  of  the  Papifl^'. 

This  pious  pair  lived  together  two  years  in  fuch 
mutual  affeclion  and  comfort  as  became  the  children 
of  God;  in  which  time  they  had  one  daughter.  Theic 
habitation  was  fituated  in  the  midll  of  Papllts,  many 
of  whom  were  lingalarly  ignorant  and  brutal.  From 
thefe  they  continually  received  injuries.  But  hor 
prudence,  mildnefs  and  conOancy  in  the  truth,  much 
edified  and  firengthened  her  hufband  in  his  holy  faith, , 
and  animated  him  to  bear  with  great  equanimity  the' 
ill  ufage  and  indignities  he  daily  experienced. 

Several  times  their  horfes  and'  cattle  were  killed  in 
the  night  by  thofe  malicious  people.  But  this  good 
woman  not  only  fubmitted  to  the  affli^lion  with  ad- 
mirable patience,  but  even  rejoiced  and  praifed  God;,, 
refigning  herfelf  to  his  holy  and  all-v/ife  Providence. 
She  would  often  remark  :  **  It  is  good  that  fuch  things 
Ihould  be  ;  but  wo  be  to  thofe  who  do  then^^  It  is 
good  in  God,  thus  to  chaften  his  children,  and  prevent 
fome  fminto  which  lie  faw  we  were  likely, to  fail.  It 


Mrs.  Catharine  Bretterg.  1249 

is  good  in  refpecSl  to  the  Church  of  God,  that  the 
weak  may  be  confirmed  in  the  truth,  and  that  Popery 
may  be  difgraced,  when  the  world  fees  what  wicked- 
refs  proceeds  from  it.  It  is  good  in  God,  that  fo  the 
wicked  maybe  without  excufe  in  the  day  of  judgment, 
when  their  confciences  tell  them,  that  tliough  God 
fufFers  them  to  commit  fuch  abomination  for  fomc 
caufe  known  to  himfelf,  they  perpetrate  it  only  from 
malice  and  revenge."  In  the  midd:  of  fuch  troubles, 
fhe  vvoulJ  often  add  :  *'  The  mercies  of  the  Lord  are 
infinite,  who  does  not  only  by  his  word,  but  ly  his 
juitice  alfo,  make  us  fit  for  his  kingdom.  Little  (\o 
our  enemies  knoy»^  what  good  they  do  us  by  thefe 
things,  and  what  ruin  they  bring  to  their  own  king- 
dom, while  they  thus  publiQi  abroad  its  wickednefs." 

She  often  prayed  that  God  would  forgive  thofe  who 
did  thefe  wrongs,  andgivcthem  repentance  for  their 
iniquity.  She  exhorted  licr  hufoand  to. do  the  fame  ; 
and  foUov/ed  up  her  cxhoriations  with  daily  prayers, 
that  God  would  fanclify  liis  thoughts,  and  direcl  his 
heart  aright,  that  lie  might  feek  the  divine  gloiy,  to 
the  exclufion  of  all  revenge,  and  every  other  e\il  paf- 
fion. 

Her  mceknefs,  humility  and  blamelefs  walk  were 
fuch  as  to  condrain  many  who  were  enemies  to  relig- 
ion to  fpeak  well  of  her.  She  had  a  good  report  of 
all  who  knew  her,  for  her  holy  and  exemplary  life. 
She  was  very  tender  and  bountiful  to  the  poor,  ne- 
f^lcding  no  opportunity  that  prefented  itfelf,  of  ihew- 
Fng  thetn  kindnefs.  She  conltantly  had  her  itated  fea- 
fons  for  prayer,  reading,  and  meditation  ;  and  Vv^as  no 
lefs  confcientious  refpeiSllng  the  religious  duties  of  the 
family.  It  was  her  pradice  to  read  at  leaft  eight 
chapters  every  day  in  the  holy  Scriptures.  Such  time 
as  Oie  faw  any  fpending  idly,  fhe  called,  "  the  time  of 
temptations.' 

She  diligently  read  other  books  of  piety  befide^  the 
Scripture?,  fuch  as  judicious  expofitoxs,  and  the  hiflo- 


ries 


24S  Memoirs  of 

ries  of  Martyrs.  She  was  often  fo  mucli  affe£lecf 
with  the  torments  which  Chritlians  had  endured,  as 
to  weep  very  bitterly.  She  had  an  ardent  zeal  for  the 
glory  of  God,  and  an  immovable  attachment  to  what 
fhe  confidered  as  his  truth.  Sin,  of  every  kind,  vv^^s 
hateful  to  her.  She  grieved  for  -it  in  others,  and,  ei- 
pecially  in  herfelf. 

About  two  years  after  her  marriage,  fhe  was  feized 
with  a  fever,  which  was  at  times  fo  violent  as  to  in- 
terrupt the  exercife  of  her  reafon.  At  other  intervals, 
ihe  fuftained  great  conflicts  of  fpirit,  -and  didrelling 
temptations  ot  the  adverfary.  A  viewoftlie  Uriel- 
nefs  of  divine  juftice,  and  of  the  greatncfs  of  her  own 
fins,  diftreiTed,  and  almoft  overwhelmed  her  mindo 
At  fome  times,  (lie  accufed  herfelf  of  pride,  of  impa- 
tience, of  hypocrify,  and  even  of  the  fins  of  her  par- 
ents. At  others,  her  mind  was  perplexed  about  her 
election.  At  fomc  times,  fhe  would  feem  almoft 
ready  to  abandon  the  bible,  faying  that  though  it  was 
indeed  the  book  of  life,  fhe  feared  it  had  become  to 
her  the  book  of  death.  At  others,  Va^  would  complain 
tiiat  her  fins  had  niade  her  a  prey  to  Satan,  a  fpedacle 
to  the  world,  a  difgrace  to  religion,  and  a  ihame  to  her 
hufband.  Then  Qie  would  weep  bitterly,  vviia  fhe 
had  never  been  born,  or  that  file  had  been  made  any 
other  creature.  Often  flie  cried  out,  **  Wo, wo,  wo; 
a  weak,  woful,  wretched,  forfaken  woiiian,  &c."  and 
after  beginning  to  pray,  would  flop  fuddenly  and  fay^ 
**  I  may  not  pray,  I  may  not  pray," 

Thefe  feafons,  though  mod  difireffiRg  to  herfelf, 
and  uncotnfortable  to  her  friends,  were  neither  laft- 
ing  nor  unintermitted  ;  but  in  the  midfl  of  them  fhe 
would  exhibit  fome  happy  fymptoms  of  faith,  in  op- 
pofing  and  ftriving  againfl  her  temptations  and  im- 
ploring ftrength  from  God  to  conquer  them.  She  of- 
ten, v.'ith  a  cheeriul  countenance  entreated  her  friends 
not  to  faint,  nor  give  over,  but  coaftantly  to  pray,  and 
help  her  againft  the  tempter. 

One 


Mrs.  Catharine  Bretterg.  249 

One  of  them  inquiring  whether  (he  believed  the 
promifes,  and  whether  flie* could  pray  ?  fhe  anfvvered, 
^*  O  that  i  could  !  I  would  willingly,  hut  he  will 
not  let  me.  Lord  I  believe  :  help  roy  unbelief  !"  Her 
friend  cbrerving  Xh3.t  her  {/ef.res  ^n6  endeavors  were 
accepted  for  Chrifl's  rake,ihe  feemed  much  comfort- 
ed.— Once,  after  a  great  confli<5l:  with  her  cruel  ene- 
my, (he  faid,  "  Satan,  reafon  not  with  me.  I  am  but 
a  weakwoman.  If  thou^haif  any  thing  to  fay,  fay  it  to 
my  Ch.rift.  He  is  my  Advocate,  my  Strength,  and  my 
Redeemer,  and  he  fhall  plead  for  m.e." 

Sometim.es,  being  afflitlcd  v/ith  a  fight  of  her  fms, 
and  her  want  of  the  light  of  God's  countenance,  fhe 
would  fay,  with  many  tears,  interrupted  by  frequent 
fobs,  **  Pray  to  the  Lord  JefusChriO:,  to  help  and 
comfort  me,  a  poor,  woful,  diflrefied  woman." 

A  pious  and  companionate  friend  reminded  her  of 
the  mercies  of  God,  the  merits  of  Chrift,  the  many 
gracious  promifes  contained  in  the  Word,&:c  .  which, 
through  the  divine  blcliing.  greatly  refreflied  her,  and 
encouraged  her  often  to  call  upon  God  for  increafeof 
grace,  and  deliverance  from  her  grievous  temptations. 
The  Lord  foon  after  granted  her  defires,  fo  that  flie 
began  to  feel  herfelf  greatly  delivered  from  her  form- 
er fears  and  diftrefTeSo  But  the  day  before  her  death, 
ilte  wa?  fet  at  perfed  liberty,  and  filled  with  an  abun- 
dance of  fpiritual  confolation. 

One  day,  her  brother,  ?vlr.  John  Bruen,  a  holy  man, 
coming  to  vifit  her,  he  ii^id,  ''  Sifter  be  not  difmayed 
at  your  troubles.  Remember  what  the  Apoftle  fays, 
\\\:xt  judgment  muji  begin  at  the  houfe  of  God.''  She  re- 
plied, **  True  ;  and  if  it  begin  zuith  us,  and  the  righ- 
teous jhall  fcarcely  befavedy  where  Jhall  the finners  and 
ungodly  appear  .^"  She  often  repeated  comforting  paf- 
fages  of  Scripture,  efpecially  the  eighth  chapter  to  the 
Romans,  clofing  all  with  prayer,  and  a  mod  joyful 
application  of  the  word  to  herfelf.  "When  any  thing 
"Vi'as  offered  rier  to  drink,  fne  would  often  repeat  thofe 
X  animating 


Memoirs  of 


aniQiatlng  words  :  "  To  him  that  cometh  will  I  give 
to  drink  of  the  water  of  life  freely." 

Once  (he  took  her  bible  in  her  hand,  and  joyfully 
Iciihng  it,  exclaimed  :  **  O  Lord,  it  is  good  to  be  af- 
ili6^ed,  that  I  might  learn  thy  ftatutes.  The  law  of 
thy  mouth  is  belter  to  me  than  thoufands  of  gold  and 
filver." 

Calling  her  hnfband  to  her,  {he  faid  :  **  Beware 
of  Popery  :  keep  yourfelf  holy  bef©re  the  Lord:  yield 
:r!ot  to  the  abominations  of  the  wicked,  lell  they  re- 
joice, and  fo  you  dillionor  God,  and  dellroy  your  own 
ibul.  Let  my  little  child  be  brought  up  in  the  true 
fear  of  God  :  fo,  though  I  mufl  now  leave  her  behind 
me  on  earth,  I  (hall  meet  her  in  heaven." 

She  often  repeated  :   <'  We   have  not   received    the 
fpirit  of  bondage  again  to  fear,  but  the  Spirit  of  adop- 
tion, whereby    we  cry,    Abba,    Father  :/'  which    lad' 
words  (he  dwelt  on  with  much  afteCtion  and  comfort. 
The  day  before  her  death,  {he  feemed  to  difmifs  all 
thoughts  of  the  world,  her  hufband,  child,  and    every 
tiling  elfe  but  heaven,  and  what  is  connected  with  it. 
8he  lay  with  a  cheerful  countenance,  as  one  in  tranf- 
ports  of  fplrit,  and  her  lips  overflowed  with  the  praif- 
csofGod.      Her  hultand   reading  fome    portions    of 
Scripture,  when  he  came  to  that  in  John  17.  4.   Iha^ve 
fjii/Jjed  the  zuork    zvhich  ihoii  gcvveft  me-to  do,  and  now 
^^/^r//)' wf— Ihe  defired    him  to  paufe,   and    then    ex- 
claimed.    ♦*  Bleffed    be  thy  name,  O  blclTed  Savior  ! 
perfeft  the  work,  I  humbly  befeech  thee,  which  thou 
hafl  begun  in  me."     -VVhen  he  read  vcrfe  9.      I  pray 
not  for  the    worlds  hut  for  thsm  %vhich  thou  haji  given 
vie,  for  they  are  thine';  flic  faid,  "  O  Lord  Jefus,  dofl 
thou  pray  for  m.e  r  O  -blefTed  and  fweet  Savior  I   how 
wonderful  !  how  w^onderful      how  v.'onderful  are  thy 
mercies  !  — Read"  on  ;   'tis  the    raoft  bleiTed   reading  I 
ever    heard.     The  comfort  of   it  fvveetens  my  foul." 
When  he  read  verfe  22.  The  glory  that  thou  gaveji  me 
I   have  given  themj  that  they  may  h  cnc,  even  as  we  are 


Mrs.  Catharine  Bretterc.  2£X 

cne  ;  fhe  faid  in  a  tranfport  of  joy  :  *'  I  ccnfefs  be- 
fore the  Lord  his  loving  kindriefs,  and  his  wonderiirl 
works  before  the  fons  of  men  ;  for  he  hath  fatishcd 
my/oul,  and  filled  my  hungry  foul  with  goouneis." 

When  he  read  verfe  24.  Fathery  I  will  that  they 
whom  thou  haft  given  me^  he  with  me  where  I  arUj  that 
they  may  behold  7ny  glory  i^c.  **  Stay,"  faid  (he  ;  ^  let 
me  meditate  on  the  goodnefsof  the  Lord,  for  this  is  the 
fvveeteif  faying  that  ever  came  to  my  foul.  Now  I 
perceive  and  feel  that  the  countenance  of  Chrili:  my 
Redeemer  is  turned  toward  me,  1  he  bright- fnining 
beams  of  his  mercy  are  fpread  over  me.  O  happy 
am  I,  that  I  was  ever  born  to  fee  this  bleiTed  day. 
Praife,  praife,  Opraife  the  Lord  for  his  mercies  ;  for 
he  hath  brought  me  out  of  darknefs  and"  the  ihadow  of 
death;  he  h?,th  delivered  my  foul  from  the  fnareofthe 
fowler;  he  hath  taken  m.e  out  of  the  den  of  lions,  and 

fet  me  in  a  place  of  rell  and  fweet  refrelhing. O 

my  fweet  Savior  !  Shall  I  be  one  with  thee,  as  thou 
art  one  with  the  Father  ?  Wilt  thou  glorify  me  with 
the  glory  thou  hadft  with  the  Father  before  the  world 
was  r  And  doll  thou  fo  love  me,  duff  ar.d  afhes,  as  to 
make  me  partaker  of  glory  with  thee?  What  am  I,  poor 
wretch,  that  thou  art  thus  mindful  of  me  r  O  how  won- 
derful !  how  wonderful !  hov/  wonderful  is  thy  love  \ 
Oh,  thy  love  is  unlpeakable  l.Oh,  Ifeel  thy  mercies  \ 
and  O  that  my  tongue-  and  heart  were  able  to  foimd 
forth  thy  praifes  as  I  ought,  and  v.'illingly  would  do  1 
Ohelp  me  to  praife  the  God  of  all  confolation!" 

Thus  fhe  continued  for  the  fpace  of  five  hours, 
praifing  the  Lord  with  a  cheerful  and  heavenly  coun- 
tenance, tellifying  her  heart-felt  experience  of  his  mer- 
cies in  Ihains  likethcfe  :  *'  O  my  Lord  God,  blelTcd 
be  thy  name  for  ever  more  !  Thou  had  fnewn  me  the 
path  of  life.  Thou  didft,  O  Lord,  hide  tliy  facefrom 
me  for  a  feafon,  but  with  everfailing  m.ercy  thou  ha<i 
had  companion  or.  me,  he.  Thou  art  come  w  iih  fu!- 
nefs  of  joy,  and  abundance  of  confolations.  Hclpm-.-^ 
O-heip  me  to  praife  the  Lord  l"  Vv^ith 


25^  Mem 01  as  of 

With  a  voice  remarkably  fweet,  (he  fang  the  third 
Pfalm,  and  then  faid,  '*  O  praiie  the  Lord,  for  he 
bath  hlled  me  with  joy  and  gladnefs  of  heart,  and 
brought  me  from  the  gates  of  death  and  hell.  Miikline 
is  fallen  to  me  in  a  pleafant  place,  I  have  a  goodly 
heritage,  for  the  Lord  is  the  portion  of  my  inherit- 
ance. O  how  pleafant  is  the  place  where  I  lie  !  It 
is  fweeter  than  Aaron's  perfume  compofed  ot  princi- 
pal fpices.  How  comforting  is  the  fweetnefs  I  feel  ! 
it  is  like  that  odor  that  proceeds  from  the  golden 
ctnkv.  The  taile  is  precious.  Do  you  not  feel  it  ? 
it  is  fweeter  than  honey,  or  the  honey-comb." 

Then  file  fang  part  of  the  119th  Pfalrn,  prayed,  and 
fang  the  i  36th  Pfalm.  After  which  fhe  faidto  one 
-who  was  vifiting  her,  *^  O  the  joys  !  thejoys  !  thejoys 
that  I  feel  in  my  foul  !  Oh,  they  are  wonderful  ! 
they  are  wonderful  !  they  are  wonderful !"  After- 
ward Ihefaid,  *^  Lord,  fince  it  hath  pleafed  thee  to 
prepare  my  heart,  whether  it  be  for  Hie  or  death,  thy 
will  be  done,  Difpofe  of  me  for  thy  own  glory,  i. 
am  thine  :  Lord,  work  thy  bleifed  pleafure  and  good 
-will  upon  me."  And  afterward  ;  "  Mine  eyes  are 
opened,  bleifed  be  God  !  I  do  feel  and  fee  the  ever 
living  mercies  of  my  Chriif.  I  feel  thy  mercy,  I 
am  allured  of  thy  love,  I  knovv'  myfelf  to  be  thine,  O 
Lord  my  God." 

A  friend  joining  her  in  praifing  God  for  his  great- 
mercy  to  her,  Ihe  faid  :  *'I  give  th^e  thanks,  O  Fa- 
ther, Lord  of  heaven  and  earth,  becaufe  thou  haft  hid 
thefe  things  from  the  wife, and  men  of  underftandingj 
and  opened  them  to  me,  thy  poor  handmaid,  who  am 
but  dull  and  aflies.  How  merciful,  marvellous  and 
gracious  art  thou  to  me  1'' 

Then  ihe  fang  the  fourth  Pfalm,  and  afterward  faid,, 
*^  I  am  fure  that  my  redeemer  liveth,  and  that  I  fliali 
fee  him  at  the  laft  day,  &c." 

A    pious  m/uiifter  coming  in,  fhe  faid  to  hirri,  **  O 
Mr.Harriibu !  my  foul  hath  been  coippaiTed  about  with 

the 


Mrs.  Catharine  Bxetterg.  25^ 

*he  terrors  of  death  :  fear  within,  and  fear  without  : 
the  forrows  of  hell  v/ere  upon  my  foul.  A  roaring 
wildernefs  of  woe  was  within  me  ;  but  bleiled,blelTed, 
bleffed  be  the  Lord  my  God,  who  hath  not  left  me  com- 
fortlefs,  but,  like  a  good  fhepherd,  hath  brought  m'e 
into  a  place  of  reft,  even  to  the  fweet  running  waters 
of  life.  O  bleiTed  be  the  Lord  who  has  thus  comfort- 
ed me,  and  brought  me  into  a  place  fweeter  than  the 
garden  of  Eden.  O  the  joy  !  the  joy  !  the  delightful 
ioy  that  1  feel  !  O  how  wonderful  !  how  wonderful  is 
this  joy  !  O  praife  tlie^Lord  for  his  mercy,  and  forthi9 
joy  which  my  foul  feeleth  full  well  !  Praife  his  nam.t; 
tor  evermore  !" 

Immediately  before  one  of  her  friends  began  pray- 
er, (he  faid,  "  Hear,  O  Lord,  and  have  mercy  upon 
me  !  Lord,  be  thou  m,y  helper  !  Thou  haft  looftd 
my  fack-clorh,  and  haft "  girded  me  with  gladnefs  : 
therefore  will  I  praife  thee^  O  Lord  my  God  :  I  will 
give  thanks  to  thee  for  evermore." 

On  the  evening  of  the  fabbath,  her  ftrength  and 
fpeech  beginning  to  fail  her^  fhe  faid,  *'  My  warfare 
is  accomplifiied,  and  my  iniquities  are  pardoned.. 
Lord,  whom  have  Lin  heaven  but  thee  r  and  Lhave 
none  upon  earth  but  thee.  My  flefh  fails,  and  iny 
heart  alfo  :  but  God  is  the  ftrength  of  my  heart,  and, 
my  portion  forever*  He  who  prcferves  Jacob,  and 
defends  his  Ifrael,  He  is -my  God,  and  will  guide  m.e 
unto  death."  Soon  after,  fhe  iell  afltep  in  tlie  Lore?, 
herfpirit  departing  in  peace,  without  itrugRJe  or  mo- 
tion, May  31,  1601,  in  the  tv/enty-fcccnd  yearof  hct. 
3ge, 


x-2 


LADY 


^54  Memoirs  op 


LADY  RACHEL  RUSSELL. 


T 


HIS  lady  was  born  about  the  year  1636,  . 
She  was  married  firft  to  Lord  Vaiighan,  and  after- 
■ward,  about  the  year  1669,  to  Lord  Rufiell,  a  noble- 
man equally  celebrated  for  his  virtues  and  his  fuffer- 
ings.  Having  honorably  didinguiflied  irrmfclf  in  fup- 
portofthe  liberties  and  religion  of  his  country,  he 
fell  a  martyr  to  the  caufe,  being  beheaded  July  21 , 
.168:]. 

Of  his  excellent  lady,  little  is  known,  previous  to 
the  period  of  her  hufi)and's  fufferings.  Hercondu61:^ 
on  this  trying  occafion  difplaycd  a  mixture  of  the 
lenderefl:  alfeSion,  and  the  mod:  fiirprifing  magnan- 
imity. She  appeared  at  court  at  his  liial  ;  and  when 
the  Attorney  General  told  him  *  he  might  ufe  the  hand 
of  one  of  his  fervants  in  waiting,  to  take  notes  of  the 
-evidence  for  his  ufe  ;'  Lord  Rufiell  anfwcrcd,  that 
Jie  afkcd  no  afliflancc  but  that  of  the  Lady  who  fat  by 
.him.  When  at  thefe  words,  the  fpe6lators  turned' 
.their  eyes,  and  b;:^hcld  the  daughter  of  the  virtuous 
,tSouthampton,  rifing  to  afnn:  her  Lord  in  his  diftrcfs,  a 
ihrill  of  anguifli  pervaded  the  affembly. 

After  his  condemnation,  (he  threw  herfelf  at  the 
Xing's  feet,  and  pleaded,  but  in  vain,  the  merits  and 
loyalty  of  her  father,  to  fave  her  humand.  She  after- 
ward repeated  the  attempt,  but  with  the  fame  ill  fuc- 
cefs.  Her  generous  hufband  expreficd,  at  firlf,  fome 
Teluftance  at  her  taking  thefe  meafures  ;  but  reflec- 
ting afterward,  that  it  m.ight  be  fome  mitiga.tion  to  her 
grief,  to  have  left  nothing  undone,  to  fave  hhs  life,  he 

acquiefccd 


Lady  Rachel  Russell,  255  = 

acqulefced.     He  added,  that  parting  with  her  was  the 
greatefl:  thing  he  had  to  do,  for  (he  would  be  fcarce  a-> 
ble  to  bear   it  :  that   though    her  prefent  concern   a- 
bout  his    prefervation    fo    occupied  her  mind,  as    in 
fome  mealure  to  fupport  her,  he  feared  that  when  that 
ihould  be  over,  her  grief  would  prey  with  all  its  force 
upon  her  fpirit;     Indeed  his  heart  never  appeared  fo 
near  failing  him,  as  when  he  fpoke  of  her.   Sometimes 
a  tear  would  be  {^ten  in  his  eye  ;  but  he  would  imme- 
diately change  the  difcourfe  to  another  fubjeft.     The 
evening  before  his  death,  he  fufFercd  his  children,  at- 
tended by  fome  friends,   to    take  leave   of  him  ;  and 
though  a  fond  parent, prefervedg?tratconftancy  through 
theintervicv/.   The' fame  evening,  he  parted,  in  a  tran- 
quil filencc,  with  his  lady,  whom  he  elieemed  and  lov- 
ed beyond  expreilion,  faying,  as  foon  as  Ihe  was  gone, 
'«  The  bitternefs  of  death  is  paft."     He  difcourfed  a 
long  time  concerning  lier  excellencies,  declaring  how 
great  a    blefiing  he    had   enjoyed  in    her,    and  what  a 
iTiifery  it  would  have  been  to  him,  if  flie  had  not  pof- 
itKc^  fuch  a  magnanimity,  mingled  with  her  tender- 
Tiefb,  as  never  to  defire  him  to  do  a  bafe  thing  to  (ave 
his  !ife.    He  added,  that  there  was  a  fignal  providence 
of  God  manifelfed  in    his  being  favored    with  fuch  a 
v;ife,  who  befide  the  advantages   of  birth,  of  fortune, 
and  a  fine  underftanding,  united  a  deep  fenfe  of  relig- 
ion with  the  tendered  alFcaion  for  himfelf.    "  But," 
faid  he,  "her  condu£f    in  my  extremity  was   beyond 
all."     He   exprelTed    his  fatisfaction  that  ihe    would 
jofe  fo  little  by  his  death,  and  that  he  left  his  children 
in  the  hands  of  fuch, a  mother,  who  had  promifed  to 
take  care  of  herfeif  for  their  fakes. 

As  to  lady  Rufiel^the  fortitude  with  which  (he  UU- 
tained  the  ihock  was  tridy  wonderful.  On  recent 
trying  occcafions,  fhe  had  appeared  in  an  attitude  to 
excite  the  tendered:  compalhon  and  fympaihy.  But 
her  concuift  nov/  commanded  admiration.  Her  hap- 
p.incfs  with  her  hufband  had  bcen.almoft  unparalleled  5 

nor 


Q,^^'  Memoirs  a?- 

nbrhadher  aifedion  to  him  been  lefs  remarkabW 
It  almofl  furpafled  all  that  has  been  known  in  a  wife. 
It  was  theretore  natural  to  fear  that  her  diftrefs  would 
have  furmounted  all  the  barriers  of  reafon  and  relig- 
ion. But  Ihe  took  the  laft  farewell  without  a  figb 
or  a  tear. 

After  his  death  fhe  feemed  abforbed  in  a  pious 
concern  to  honor  God  under  fo  heavy  a  chaitife- 
ment,  and  to  fulfil  the  duties  devolved  on  her  in  the 
care  and  education  of  her  children,  now  doubly  dear 
to  her,  as  the  remains  and  reprefentatives  of  their  be^ 
loved  father* 

She  approved  herfelf  a  faithful  guardian  of  her  de- 
ceafed  hufband's  reputation,  and  paid  his  memory  ev- 
ery honor  which  a  generous  and  feeling  heart  could 
devifc.  She  wrote  a  letter  to  the  King  in  order  to 
vindicate  his  name  from  the  mifreprefentations  and 
calumnies  of  his  enemies.  She  ufed  her  intereft  to 
obtain  a  penfron  for  a  worthy  man  who  had  been  his 
chaplain,  and  adtuaUy  obtained  it.  •  The  proraife  flie 
had  made  him,  to  take  care  of  her  life  and  health  for 
the  fake  of  his  children,  fne  religioufly  obferved  ;  and 
file  continued  his  widow  to  the  clofe  of  her  life,  though 
Ihe  furvived  him  more  than  forty  years. 

Though  fhe  gave  ample  dem-onftraton  of  the  moft 
lively  and  •  lafting  grief  for  her  hulband's  untimely 
ly  death,  yet  through  all,  her  pious,  unrepining  fub.* 
midion  to  the  will  of  God  ihone  confpicuous.  It  is 
obfervable,  that  in  the  freefl:  eifufions  of  her  heart-felt 
forrow,  conveyed  in  letters  to  her  intimate  friends, 
there  cannot  be  found  a  fingle  trace  of  refentraent  or 
reproach  toward  any  perfon  concerned  in  his  death, 
.Though  the  Duke  of  York  had  inftigaied  the  King, 
his  brother,  tolhew  himfelf  inexorable  to  all  appli- 
cations for  Lord  RulfeU's  life,  and  had  even  made  the 
"barbarous  propofal  that  he  fhould  be  executed  at  iiis 
ov^ndoor,  Ihe  uttered  no  cenfure  againlf  him.  And 
ivhen,  after  having-  been  king    himfelf,  he  was  a 

king 


Lady  Rachel  Russell.  257" 

kin^  no  more,  a  wanderer  in  a  foreign  land,  fhe  never 
dropped  an  expreffion  that  looked  like  triumph  o- 
ver  him,  or  fo  m.uch  as  intimated  that  fhe  thought 
him  juftly  punifhed  for  his  cruelty.  Yet  this  unhap- 
py man  was  once  reminded  on  the  rubje6t,  in  a  way 
which  cut  him  to  the  heart,  .  Having  occafion,  in  his 
difirefTes,  to  apply  for  help  to  Lord  RuiTell's  father^ 
the  venerable  Earl  of  Bedford,  he  addrelTed  him  in  this 
ftyle  :  **  My  Lord,  you  are  an  honeft  m.an,  have  great 
credit,  and  can  do  m.e  fjgnal  fervice."  *'  Ah,  Sir," 
replied  the  Earl,  .  **  I  am  old  and  feeble  ;  1  can  do 
you  but  little  fervice  ;  but  I  once  had  a  fon  that  could 
have  afiifted  you— but  he  is  no  more."  The  iallen 
monarch  was  fo  much  affeded  by  this  reply,  as  to  re- 
main for  fome  minutes  incapable  of  fpeaking. 

For  feveral  of  the  laft  years  of  her  life,  Lady  Ruf- 
fel  was  afflided  with  a  v^eaknefs  of  eyes  which  feem- 
ed  for  a  while  to  threaten  a  total  lofs  of  fight.  Her 
mingled  fenfibiiity  and  fubmifiion  to  this  calamity, 
appear  from  the  following  paiTages  of  letters  to  sl 
friend. 

*'  While  I  can  fee  at  all,"  fays  flie,  "  I  m.uft  do  a 
little  more  than  I  can,  v/ntn  God  fees  it  bed:  that  ut- 
ter darknefs  fhall  fall  upon  me,  which  will  deprive 
me  of  all  fociety  at  a  diitance,  which  I  efteem  exceed- 
ingly profitable  and  pleafant.  But  ftill  I  -have  full 
hope,  Lfoall  rejoice,  in  that  he  will  not  deny  me  his 
great  grace  to  flrengthen  me  with  might  by  his  Spirit 
in  the'inner  man.  Then  fnall  I  walk  in  the  right 
•way,  till  I  reach  the  joys  of  eternal  endurance. 

Again  :  "  Alas  !  my  bail  eyes  ferve  me  new  fo  lit- 
tle, that  I  could  not  read  your  papers,  and  tell^  you 
that  I  have  done  ioy  in  one  day,  -  It  is  mortifying  : 
yet  I  hope  I  do  not  repine,  but  on  the  contrary,  re- 
joice in  the  goodnefs  of  my  God  to  me,  that,  when  I 
feared  the  utter  Icfs  of  fight,  has  let  me  thus  long  fee 
the  light,  and  by  it  given  me  time  to  prepare  for  that 
day  of  darknefs,  which  perhaps  niufi  foon  overtake 
Hie."  ^^^ 


258  McMOiks  OF 

She  was  held  in  the  higheft  efleem  by  feveral  of  (be? 
mort:  eminent  divines  of  her  lime,  among  whom  were 
Dr.  Tillotfon,  Dr.  Burnet,  and  Dr.  Patrick,  who 
were  her  correfpondents.  She  was  lilcewife  iionored 
%vith  tokens  of  very  peculiar  re^oedl  and  confidence  by 
the  Dutchefs  of  Marlborough  ;  and  received  feveral 
letters  from  Qijeen  Mary,  exprelhve  of  much  affec- 
tion and  fympathy.. 

As  the  memoirs  of  tliis  diftingiiiilied  woman  are 
very  imperfect,  it  may  be  proper  to  fupply  their  de- 
fe6ts  with  extracSls  from  her  letters.  Thoiifands  of 
thefe  are  irrecoverably  loft.'  The  fele£lions  which 
follow  are  made  principally  from  thofe  which  ilie 
wrote  to  Dr.  Fitzwilliam,  a  divine  who  had  been 
chaplain  to  her  father,  and  for  whom  llie  entertained 
a  peculiar  efteem  and  friendfhip. 


*'  I  know  I  have  deferved  my  puni{hment,and  will 
be  filent  under  it  ;  but  yet  fecretly  my  heart  mourns, 
too  fadly  I  fear,  and  cannot  be  comforted,  becaufe  I 
have  not  the  dear  companion  and  fharer  of  all  my  joys 
and  forrows,  I  want  him  to  talk  with,  to  walk  with, 
to  eat  and  flee p  with.  All  thefc  things  are  irkfome 
to  me  now :  the  day  unwelcome,  and  the  night  fo  too. 
"When  I  fee  my  children  before  me,  I  remember  the 
pleafure  he  took  in  them.  This  make^  my  heart 
ihrink.  Can  I  regret  his  quitting  a  lefs  good  for  a 
greater  ?  Oh  !  if  I  diJ  fteadfailly  believe,  I  could  not 
be  dejected  ;  for  I  will  not  injure  myfelf  to  fay,  I  of- 
leY  my  mind  any  inferior  confolation  to  fupply  this 
jofs.  No  :  I  moft  willingly  forfaks  this  world,  thi-s 
vexatious,  troublefome  world,  in  which  I  have  no 
other  bufinefs  btit  to  rid  my  foul  from  tin,  fecure  my 
internal  interefts^  with  patience  and  courage  bear  my 
eminent  misfortunes,  and  ever  hereafter,  be  above  the 
fmiles  and  frowns  of  it,  and  when  I  have  finilhed  the 
work  apj)ointed  me  on  earth,  joyfully   wait   for  t.he 

heavenly. 


Lady  Rachel  Russell.  259 

lieavenly  pcrfeclion  in  God's  good  time,  when,  in  his 
infinite  mercy,  I  may  be  accounted  ^vol•t^y  to  enter 
into  that  relt  and  rcpofe  to  which  he  ib  gone,  for  whom 
J  grieve.' 


''  You  deal  with -me,  Sir,  juft  as  I  would  be  dealt 
with  ;  and  it  is  pofTible^  I  feel  the  more   fmart    trom 
my  f aging  griefs,  becaufe  I  would  not  lofe  them,  but 
upon  fit  conViderations.      It  is  eafieft  to  our  natures  to 
have  our  fores  gently  handled:  yet,   as  moft    profita- 
ble, I  would  yi^ld,    and    even   dcfire,  to    have   mine 
fearched,  that  as  you  religioufiy  defjgn  by  it,  they  may 
not  fefter.     -  It  is  poflible  I  grafp  at  too  much  of  this 
kind,  for  a  fpirit  fo  brckep,  by.  affliction  :  for  I  am  fo 
jealous  that  time,    or  necedity,  the  ordinary  abater  of 
all  violent  pafiions,  nay,  even  empioym.ent,or  the  com- 
pany of  fuch  friends  as  .1  have  left,    fhould   do   what 
reafon  or  religion  ought,   as  makes  me  covet  the  beft 
advice,  and  ufe  all  methods  to  obtain  relief  in  2.filent 
Juhmiffion  to  this  fevere  and  terrible  Providence,  with- 
out any  ineffective  willingnefs  merely  to   bear   what 
I  muft  fuffer  ;   and  fuch  a  vidory   over  ■  myfelf,  that 
immoderate  pafiions,  once  allayed,  may  not  break  out 
again  when  frefli  occafions  and  accidents  offer  to  my 
memory  the  dear  obje6l  of  my   defi res— which   mult 
happen  every  day,  I  may  fay,  every  hour  of  the  long- 
elt  life  I  can  live  :— tliat  fo  when  I  muft  return  to  the 
•world,  to.atft  the  part  incumbent  on  mc  in  faiihfulnefs 
to  him  to  whom  I  owe  as  much  as  can  be  due  to  man, 
it  mav  be  with  great  itrength  of  fpirits,  and  grace  to 
live  a  (Iriaer  liteof  holinefs   to  my  God,    who   will 
not  always  let. me  cry  to  him  in  vain.  On  him  I  will 
wait  till  he  have  pity    upon    me,    humbly    implorinj]^ 
that  by  the  mighty  aids  of  his   Holy  Spirit,   he^  will 
touch  my  heart  with  greater  love  to  himfclf.       1  hm 
fliali  I  be  what  he  would  have  tTic   But  I  am  unwor- 
tiw  of  fuch  a  fpirUual  bldTing,    who. remain   fo  un- 
^  ^  ^  thankful 


SOO  MEMOITiS  OF 

thankful  a  creature  for  the  earthly  ones  I  have  enjoy- 
ed, beraufe  I  have  them  no  longer.  Yet  God/  who 
knows  our  frame,  will  not  expert  that  when  we  are 
weak,  vvr  (honld  be  l>rong.  T'his  is  much  comfort 
tinder  my  deep  dejeftions  wliich  are  increafed  by  the 
fubtil  malice  of  the  great  enemy  of  fouls,  taking  ad- 
vantage of  my  prefent  weakinrd  and  wafted  fpirits, 
and  altaulting  with  divers  temptations.'' 


'*  In  the  years  my  nnprofitable  life  has  been  pre- 
ferved  in  this  vain  and  wicked  world,  1  have  been 
made  acquainted  with  many  fad  and  niortifying  e* 
vents  :  yet  I  am  too  fure  the  great  work  of  real  mor- 
tification to  the  inordinate  love  to,  and  expectation 
frem  creatures,  is  fo  very  imperfedly  wrought  in  me 
to  this  day,  that  I  ever  need  fuch  inftruftions  as  help 
to  wean  m^e  from  binding  up  ray  life  and  content  in 
them,  though  the  befl:  of  creatures  in  their  bed  ftate. 
And  very  perverfe  it  is  in  me  toward  my  heavenly 
Father,  if  I  fecretly  repine  at  hisdifpenfing  tomethat 
which  my  corrupt  nature  makes  fo  neceiTary  for  me. 
But  it  muft  be  his  free,  effectual  grace, that  mull  per- 
fect the  work.  He  has  called  m.e  to  diiferent  encoun- 
ters, and  thereby  invites  m,e  to  ftir  up  the  grace  he 
has  put  in  my  heart.  He  has  been  pitiful  to  my 
fmall  grace,  and  removed  a  threatened  blow  which 
mud:  have  quickened  my  forrows,  the  lofs  of  ray  poor 
boy.  He  has  been  ill  ;  and  God  has  let  me  fee  the 
folly  of  thofe  imiaginations  which  have  made  me  con- 
clude I  had  nothing  left,  the  deprivation  of  which 
could  be  matter  of  much  angui fa,  or  its  pofleffion,  of 
any  confiderable  refrefhment.  I  have  felt  the  falfenels 
of  the  firft  notion  ;  for  I  know  not  how  to  part  from 
the  little  creature.  I  defire  to  do  fo,  of  the  fecond  ; 
and  that  my  thank fulnefs  for  the  real  blefling  of  thefe 
children  may  refrefh  my  laboring,  weary  mind  with 
fomejoy  and  falisfadion,  at  leaft  in   endeavoring  to 

do 


Lady  Rachel  Russell.  Q.6t 

t^othe  part  toward  them,  their  mofl:  dear  and  tender 
faiher  would  not  have  omitted,  and  which  may  con- 
duce to  their  happinefs  here  and  hereafter.  When  I 
have  done  this  piece  of  duty  to  my  bcil  friend  and 
them,  how  gladly  would  1  lie  dov^n  by  that  beloved 
dull  1  lately  went  to  vlfit  !  — 

*'  I  went  not  to  fcek  tlie  living  among  tlie  dead.  I 
knew  I  fhonldnot  fee  him  any  more  wherever  I  went, 
and  had  made  a  covenant  with  myfelt  not  to  break 
out  in  unreafonable,  fruitlefs  paihon,  but  quicken  my 
contemplations  on  that  diflant  country  whither  the 
nobler  part  was  fled,  where  no  earthly  power  bears 
fway,  nor  can  put  an  end  to  a  happy  fociety.  There 
I  would  willingly  be  :  but  we  mufl:  not  liiiiit  our 
time.     I  hope  to  wait  without  impatience." 


*'  The  confideratlon  of  the  other  world  is  not  only 
a  very  great,  but,  in  my  fmall  judgment,  the  only 
fupport  under  the  greateft  afflicSlions.  The  enliven- 
ing heat  of  thofc  glories  is  fuflicient  to  animate  and 
rcfrefh  us  in  our  dark  palTage  t'lrough  this  world  ;  and 
though  I  arn  below  the  meaned  of  God's  fervants, 
and  have  not  lived  in  the  leaft  degree  anfwerably  to 
the  opportunities  I  have  had,  yet  my  Mediator  is  my 
Judge,  and  he  will  not  defpife  weak  beginnings, 
though  there  be  more  fnx)ke  than  fiame.  He  will 
help  ws  in  beliering  ;  and  though  he  fuffers  us  to  be 
caft  dov/n,  will  not  caft:  otF  thofc  who  commit  their 
caufe  to  him. 

*'  I  have,  you  find.  Sir,  lingered  out  my  time  here  ; 
and  I  think  none  will  wonder  at  it,  who  reflecls  that 
the  place  I  am  going  to,  [London^  was  the  fccne  of  To 
much  forrow  to  me,  and  v.'h.ere  1  a£led  fo  unfuccefs- 
ful  a  part  for  the  prefcrvation  of  a  liTe,  I  could  have 
laid  down  my  owntoha\ehad  continued.  It  was 
an  ineilimablc  treafure  1  loft  ;  one  with  whom  I  had 
lived  in  the  highelt  pilch  of  this  world's  felicity.— • 
y  But 


'2.6Z  Memoirs  of 

But  I  mufl  remember,  I  have  a  better-  friend,  a  mors 
abiding,  whom  I  defire  with  an  inflamed  heart  to  know, 
Bot  only  as  good  in  a  way  of  profit,  but  amiable  in  a 
■way  of  excellency.  Then  fpiritual  joy  will  grapple 
■with  earthly  griefs,  and  fo  far  overcome,  as  to  give 
fome  tranquility  to  a  mind  tofled  to  and  fro  with  the 
evils 'of  life.  Yet  I  experience  but  fhort  moments 
of  this  defirable  temper,  and  fear  to  have  fewer  when 
3  firfl:  come  to  that  defolate  habitation  where  fo  many 
various  paflions  will  affault  me.  But  having  fo  many 
months  mourned  the  fubflance,  I  think,  by  God's  af* 
iillance,thc  fhadows  willjiot  fuik  me." 

'*  You  infiruifi:  me  admirably  how  to  overGomc, 
that  I  may  make  application  of  Rev.  3.  12.  The, 
great  thing  is  to  acquiefce  with  all  one's  heart  in  the 
|!;ood  pleafure  of  God,  who  will  prove  us  in  the  way 
he  fees  bed  ;  and  when  he  will  break  us  to  pieces,  we 
mufl  be  broken.  Who  can  tell  his  works  from  the 
beginning  to  the  end  ?  But  who  can  praife  his  mer- 
■cies  more  than  wretched  I,  that  he  has  not  cut  me  off 
in  anger,  who  have  taken  hischaftifements  fo  heavily, 
not  weighing  his  mercies  in  the  midft  of  judgment. 
The  ftroke  was  the  moil  grievous,  fure  :  but  had  J 
not  a  reafonable  hope  that  what  I  loved  as  my  own 
foul,  was  raifed  from  a  prifon  to  a  throne  ?  Was  I 
not  enabled  toHiut  up  my  own  forrows,that  I  might 
not  increafe  his  fufferings  ?  How  were  my  finking 
fpirits  fupported  by  the,earjy  corapaffions  of  excel- 
lent and  wife  Chriftians,  inceffantly  admonifhing  me 
of  my  duty,  inlfru6fing,  reproving,  comforting  me  ; 
and  charitably  contributing  to  the  gathering  to- 
gether of  my  fcattered  fpirits,  and  bringing  them  in- 
to fubmiffion  !  Further,  God  has  fpared  me  hitherto 
the  children  of  fo  excellent  a  friend,  given  them 
hopeful  underftandings,  with  very  tra£lableand  fweet 
diipofitions,  and  fpared  iny  life,  I  truft  to  be  ufetul  to 
■them.  And  feeing  I  am  to  linger  in  a  world  I  can 
rio  longer  delight  in,  He  has  given' ais  frpedom  frorii 

bodily 


Lady  Rachel  R.ussell.  2(>^ 

lx)dily  pain,  to  a  degree  I  almofl:  never  kucw.^  1  his- 
calls  for  praifes  my  dead  heart  is  not  exercifed  in,  but 
I  hope  this  is  my  infirmity.  I  bewail  it.  He  wh» 
took  our  nature,  and  felt  our  infirmities,  knows  the 
wcaknefs  of  my  perfon_,  and  the  fliarpnefs  of  my  for- 
ro  w  s , " 


^*  If  I  could  contemplate  the  condu(f{:  of  Provi- 
r'ence,  with  the  ufesyou  do,  it  would  give  cafe  indeed, 
and  no  difafrrous  events  would  much  affed  me.  I 
often  conclude  myfeif  very  void  of  temper  and  reafon, 
that  I  {till  fhed  tears  of  forrow,  and  not  of  joy,  that 
fo  good  a  man  is  landed  fafe  on  the  fliore  of  a  bleficd 
eternity.  Doubtlefs  he  is  at  reft,  though  I  find  none 
without  him  \  fo  true  a  partRcr  was  h^  in  all  my  joys 
and  griefs.  I  truft  the  Almighty  will  pafs  by  this 
niy  infirmity.  I  was  too  rich  in  poffellions  while  I 
pofTeited  him.  All  relifli  now  is  gone,  I  blefs  God  for 
it  ;  and  pray,  and  ad:  of  all  good  people  to  pray,  that 
I  may  more  and  more  turntheftream  of  my  aiTedions- 
i]pward,and  fet  my  heart  on  the  ever-fatisfying  per- 
fedions  of  God,  not  ftartled  by  his  darkeft  providen- 
ces, but  remembering  continually  that  his  glory,  juf- 
tice  or  power  is  advanced  by  every  one  of  them,  and 
that  mercy  is  over  all  his  works,  as  we  iliall  one  day 
Vvith  ravilhing  delight  behold. 

In  the  mean  time,  I  endeavor  to  fupprefs  all  thofe 
•wild  imaginations  which  a  melancholy  fancy  is  apt  to 
let  in,  and  fay  with  him  in  the  Gofpel,  **  Lord,  i  be- 
lievej  help  thou  my  unbelief »" 


*^  It  is  a  happy  efTed  of  forrow,  and  a  fure  evi- 
dence to  the  fourthatthepromifes  of  the  word  belon2; 
to  it,  that  the  work  of  grace  is  growing  tovvard  thofe 
degrees  at  which  when  we  fhall  arrive,  we  fhall  tii- 
umph  over  imperfedions,  and  our  wills  defire  noth- 
ing 


a64  Memoirs  of 

ing  but  what  fhail  pleafe  God.  "We  fliall  be  renevv- 
ed  like  eagles  ;  and  like  eagles,  (hall  mount  up  to 
meet  the  Lord  in  the  clouds,  and  ever  tarry  with  him, 
and  be  no  more  faint  or  weary  in  God's  fervice^ 
Thefe  are  raviihing  contemplations  !  Tliey  clafp  the 
heart  with  delight  tor  fuch  moments,  or  mere  proper- 
ly, fuch  parts  of  a  moment,  as  they  continue  with -us. 
It  is  true,  we  may  bear  our  grief  without  being  drown- 
ed in  palTion  ;  but  to  bear  it  without  a  murmuring 
heart,  is  the  taflv,  and  in  failing  there,  lies  the  fm.  O 
Ivord,  lay  it  not  to  the  charge  of  thy  weak  fervant  ; 
but  make  me  cheerfully  thankful  that  I  had  fuch  a. 
friend  to  lofe,  and  contented  that  he  is  difmilTed  from 
his  attendance  here.  When  the  time  com.es  that  I 
fliall  liave  mine,  I  know  not  how  it  v/ill£nd  me,  but 
I  am  fure  it  is  my  mo?c  reviving  thought  now.  When 
phmged  in  multitudes  of  Vv'ild  and  fad  thoughts,  I  re- 
cover, and  recoUefl  that  alittle  time  v/illend  this  life,.. 
and  begin  a  better  which  fnall  never  end,  and  in  which. 
vv'e  fliall  difcov^r  the  reafons  and  ends  of  all  the. 
feemingly  fevere  providences  we  have  known.  Thus 
I  feem'to  long  for  the  lafc  day  \  yet  it  is  poilible,  if 
iicknefs,  or  any  other  forerunner  of  diifoluticn  were- 
prefent,  I  (liould  defer  it  if  I  could.  So  deceitful  is 
the  heart,  or  fo  weak  is  faith.  But  I  think  one  may 
ar-'ue  again,  that  God  has  wifely  implanted  in  our 
r/iture  a  fiirinking  at  the  approach  of  a  feparation. — • 
If  it  were  not  fo,  many  would  not  endure  the  evils  of 
life,  who  now  do,  though  confcious  that  duty  en-. 
joins  it." 

"  The  faflePc  cement  of  friendfhip,  is  piety.  ^  One 
may  love  paffionately,  but  one  loves  unquietly,  if  the 
friend  be  net  a  good  man.  But  when  a  feparation 
-comes,  what  veneration  do  we  give  their  memory, 
"^hoin  we  ccnfidcr  as  loved  by  God  from  all  eternity  1'* 

^<  I  often 


Lady  Rachel  Rcssell.  265;. 

«*' I  often  think  that  could  this  fingle  particular  be  ; 
nked  firmly  in  our  hearts,  that  God  knows  where  it 
is  beft  to  place  his  creatures,  and  is  good  to  all,  we  . 
could  eafily  live  by  rule,  and  defpife  the  world.  W^e 
xire  pilgrims  and  ftrangers  upon  earth,  travelling  to  a 
better  country,  and  may  well  bear  with  bad  accom- 
modations, fometimes,  in  our  way  to  it.  None  are 
fo  dealt  with,  I  believe,  as  not  to  have  fome  days  of 
joy,  (though  we  can  lay  no  claim  to  them  ;)  nor  are 
thehappietl  here  below  without  tailing  the  bitter  cup 
of  affiidion.  So  im.perfect  is  this  ftate  ;  and  doubt- 
jefs  it  is  wifely  and  mercifully  ordered  ;  that  fo, 
through  the  changes  and  chances  of  tliis  mortal  life, 
we  may  prefs  more  eagerly  towards,  and  at  laft  W'ith 
inexpreffible  joy  attain,  that  (late  where  we  lliall  feel 
no  more  (lorms,  hut  enjoy  a  perpetual  calm.  What 
can  be  more  r  The  thought  clafps  one's  hearf,  and 
caufes  the  imprifoned  foul  to  long  to  take  her  flight.  . 
B;iit  it  is  our  duty  to  wait  with  patience  our  appoint- 
ed time. '- 


^^  I  read  yours  of  the  4th  of  July  on  the  2cth  ;  the  - 
eVe    of  that  day  -I  will  no*  fulfer  my  hand  to  write 
fatal,h2ca.uk  the  blow  (truck  on  it  gave  eternal   reft 
to  my  beloved  friend.   I  -d  j  not  contend,  on  thefe  days, 
•with  frail  nature,  but  keep  her  as  innocent  as  1  can. 
And  now,  having  laid  all  my  forrows  at    the  foot  of 
the  throne  of  grace,  I  devote  fome  of  my  reirjaining 
time  to  what  moft  compofes  my  thoughts,  and  enter- 
tains my  tired  mind — writing  where  1  may  do  it  freely, 
where  my  vv-eaknefs  will  be  pitied,  not  cenfured. —  It 
is  true,  as  you  liave  ftated,  I  had  made  him    my  idol, 
though  I  did  not  know   it;  loved  man  too  much,  and 
God  too  little  ;  yet  m.y  confiant  prayer  Vv'as  not  to  do 
fo>  though  not  fervent' enough.      I  v»ill  turn  the  cur- 
rent of  my  love,  fo  far  as  polnble,  to  his  dear  children,, 
and  if  I  iiiay  be  directed   and  blelfed  in  their   educa-. 
y  '2,  -  ticn, , 


•266  Memoirs  op 

lion,  what  more  can  I  afl-:  for  myfelf,  in  relation  to 
this  periihing  worhl  r  It  is  joy  and  peace  in  believing 
that  I  covet,  having  notliing  to  fear,  but  lin." 


*'  What  comforts  the  world  can  give,  I  am  moft 
fiire  I  have  felt,  and  found  uncertain  and  perifliing. 
Such,  grace  afTiliing,  I  will  nevermore  look  after  ;  and 
yet  I  expeil:  a  joyful  day  after  feme  mournful  cnes= 
And  though  I  walk  fadly  through  the  valley  of  death, 
I  will  fear  no  evil,  humbling  myfelf  under  the  mighty 
hand  of  God,  who  will  fave  in  the  day  of  trouble. 
He  knows  my  forrows,  and  my  weaknefs  :  1  com- 
mit myfelf  and  mine  to  him." 


"  I  hope  I.  may  conclude  I  grieve  without  finning ; 
yet  I  cannot  attain  to  that  love  of  God,  and  fubmif- 
iion  to  all  his  providences,  that  I  defire.  Hov^/ever, 
I  blefs  him  for  his  infinite  mercy  in  a  fupport  that  is 
aiot  drawn  from  the  world,  though  my  heart  is  too 
much  bound  up  in  the  blefilngs  1  have  yet  left.  I  hope 
he  has  enabled  m^e  chiefly  to  rejoice  in  him  as  my. 
everlafling  portion,  and  the  aifured  hope  of  gocd 
things  in  the  other  world. 

*'  We  are  travelling  the  fame  w^ay,and  hope,  through 
mercy,  to  meet  in  the  fame  eternal  reif  ;  and  it  is  of 
great  advanta^^e  to  that  attainment  to  comtr.unicate 
our  pious  thoughts  to  each  other.  Nothing  on  this 
fide  heaven  comes  [o  near  it  ;  and  being  where  God 
is,  is  heaven.  If  He  be  in  cur  hearts,  there  will  be 
peace. 

To  a  female  friend  in  affliction, 

'^  I  befeech  God  one  day  to  fpeak  peace  to  our  af- 
fiicled  minds,  and  not  let  us  be  difappointed  of  our 
great  hope.     But  v/e  mull  wait  for  our  day  of  confo- 

lation, 


Lady  Rachel  Russell,  267 

lation,  till  this  world  paiTes  away  :  an  unkind  and 
truftlels  world  it  has  been  to  us.-  Why  it  has  been 
fuch,  God  knows  beft.  Ail  his  diipenfations  fcrvc 
the  end  of  his  providence  ;  and  they  are  ever  beauti- 
ful, and  mull  be  good,  and  good  to  us,  even  thefe  dif- 
mal  ones,  if  we  have  evidence  in  our  own  fouls,  that 
we  are  better  for  our  afPii6tions.  We  rnay  reafonably 
believe  our  friends  find  that  reft  we  yet  but  hope  for  : 
and  what  better  comfort  can  your  Ladyfliip  or  I  de- 
i^re,  in  this  valley  of  the  fliadow  of  death  we  are  walk- 
ing through  ?  The  rougher  our  path  is,  the  more  de- 
iighllul  and  ravilhing  will  the  great  change  be," 


To  anciher  female  friend^ 

"  As  r  have  been  wonderfully  fupported,  fo  I  have 
a  humble  confidence  I  ihall  be,  the  few  remaining 
days  I  have  to  live.  BlefTed  be  the  mercy  of  God  who 
giv^es  us  joy,  hope  and  comfort  in  believing  ;  and  that, 
whatever  the  methods  of  Providence  are,  or  may  be, 
the  final  iiVue  will  bedelight  for  evermore.  Were  that 
blelTfd  ftatc  only  a  reft  from  the  labors  and  toils  of  life, 
how  welcome  muft  it  be  !  But,  as  the  Pfalmift  fays, 
**  At  thy  ri^ht  hand  are  plcaiures  for  evermore  :"  and 
in  order  to  attain  to  this  bleliedncfs  whic-h  our  Savior 
with  the  price  of  his  bloo^  purchafedfor  us,  we  fhould 
ftand  in  awe,  and  often  remember  that  p!?.ce  of  fcrip- 
ture  where  God  fays,  '*  I  am  with  you,  while  you  are 
with  me.'"'  Let  us  ftrive  faithfully  to  walk  in  his  ways, 
and  then  our  penfive  and  moft  folemn  thoughts  will  be 
cur  beft,  and  foon  calm  all  our  tumultuous  ones,  fuch 
as  the  troubles  and  croiTes  of  this  v.-orld  lead  us  to. 
I  heartily  pray  both  you  and  I  may  experience  the 
fweetnefs  of  fuch  micditalions  :  then  fhall  we  wait 
with   becoming   patience,    the  great  day   of  confola- 

tionJ' 

Ta 


ii6B  ;'  Memoirs  o?^' 

^0  anoiher. 

^*  Wc  lie  under  innumerable  obligations  to  be  en-='''' 
tkely  God's  :  and    nothing  fhould  be  fo  attrad^ing  to 
us  as  his  miraculous  love  in  fending  his  Son.    But  my  • 
ilill    pungent   forrow   for   e&rthly  loffes,    makes   me  ■ 
know   I    loved    inordinately;  and   my  profit  in   the 
fchool  of  adverfity  has  been  fmall,    or  I  fhould  long-i 
fince  have  turned  my  mourning  into  rejoicing  thank- 
fulnefsthat  I  had  fuch  a  friend  to  lofe,  that  I  faw  him 
•whom  I   loved  as  m.y  own  foul,  take  fuch  a  profpe£l 
of  death  as  made  him  walk  through  the  dark  and  Iba-- 
ded  valley,   (nctwithftanding  the  natural  averfion  to 
reparation)  without  fearing  evil.   For  if  we,  with  our 
limited  degrees'-of  goodnefj^,    will  not  for  fake  thofe 
that  depend  on  us,  much  lefscan  God  caft  us  off  from 
liim,    when  we  feek  to   him   in  cur   calamity.     And 
though  he  denied  my  earncft  and  repeated  prayers,  yet-, 
he  has  not  denied  me  the  fupport  of  his  holy  Spirit  in  - 
my   long    day  of  calamity,  but   enabled   me   in  fome  • 
meafure  to  rejoice  in  him  as  rny  portion  for  ever,  who 
has  provided  a    remedy  for  all    our  griefs  by  his   fure 
promifes  of  another  life,  Vv'here  there  is  no  death,  nor 
pain,  nor  trouble,  but  fulnefs  of  joy   in  the  prefence 
of  God  who  made  us,  and  loves  us  for  ever." 

Lady  Rufiell  received,  in  the  feafon  of  her  diftrefs, 
a  letter  of  confolation   from  the  great  and  pious  Mr. 
Howe.   It  is  written  in  a  manner  fo  happily  calculat-. 
ed  for  general    inftru^iion  and  ufe,  thai  it    is  thonobt. 
not  improper  to  infert  fome  parts  of  it,  which  follow, 

**The  caiife  of  your  forrow,  Madam,  isexceeding- 
ly  great.  The  caufes  of  your  joy  are  inexpreihbly 
greater.  You  h.ave  infinitely  more  left,  than  you  have 
loll.  Doih  it  need  \o  be  difpuled,  whether  God.  bo- 
beucx  and  i.reaier  ihaii  man  :  or  more  to  be  valued, 
^-  loved..  . 


Lady  Rachel  Russell.  ^Gg^ 

loved,  and  delighted  in  ?  and  whether  an  eternd  re- 
Ja'ion  be  more  confKierable  than  a  temporary  one  ? 
Was  it  not  your  conftant  fenfe  in  your  belt  outward 
Hate,  IVhcin  hav^  1  in  heaven  hut  thee,  O  God ;  and 
whom  can  I  deft  re  on  earth  in  comparifon  zvith  thee  ? 
Plalm  73.  25.  Herein  the  llate  of  your  Ladyfhip's 
cafe,  is  Itill  the  fame,  if  yoa  cannot  rather  with  greater 
clearnefs,  and  with  lefshefitation,  pronounce  thefe  hit- 
ter words.  The  principal  caufesof  your  joy  are  im- 
mutable, fuch  as  no  fupervening  thing  can  alter. — 
You  have  loil:  a  mofi:  pleafant,  delectable  earthly  re- 
lative. Doth  the  bleffed  God  hereby  ceafe  to  be  the 
beft  and  moft  excellent  good  ?  is  his  nature  changed  ? 
his  everlafting  covenant  reverfed  and  annulled,  which 
is  ordered  in  all  things,  and  Jure  y  and  is  to  be  all  your 
fahaticn,  and  all  your  deftre^  vjhcther  he  make  your 
houfe  on  earth  to  grow,  or  not  to  groiv  J  2  Sara.  23.  5. 
That  forrow  which  exceeds  its  caufe,  compared  with 
the  remaining  and  real  caufes  of  rejoicing,  is  in  that 
excefs  caufelefs. 

•*  Again,  v/e  ought  to  con  fide  r,  in  every  cafe,  prin- 
cipally that  which  is  principal.  God  did  not  create 
thi.^or  that  excellent  perfon,  and  place  him,  for  a- 
while,  in  the  world,  principally  to  pleafe  us  ;  nor 
doth  he  take  him  av^ay,  principally  to  difpleafe  or 
punifh  us,  but  for  much  nobler  and  greater  ends, 
which  he  hath  propofed  to  himfelf  concerning  him. 
Nor  are  we  to  reckon  ourfelves  fo  little  interefled  in 
the  great  and  fovereign  Lord  of  all,  whom  we  have 
taken  to  be  our  God,  and  to  whom  we  have  abfolute- 
3y  refigned  and  devoted  ourfelves,  as  not  to  be  obliged 
to  fatisfy  ourfelves  in  his  pleafure,  purpofes  and  Qnd^,. 
more  tfian  our  own  apart  from  his.  Such  as_  he  has 
nardoned,  accepted  and  prepared  for  himfelf,  are  to 
ierve  and  glorify  him  in  a  higher  and  more  exalted; 
capacity  than  they  ever  could  in  this  wretched  world 
of  ours,  and  wherein  they  have  themfelves  the  higheft 
fatisfaaion.     When   the  bleiTed  God  is  plealed  in 

havings 


>7»  iViEMorss  o? 

having  attained  and  accomplifhed  the  end  and  inteii-- 
tions  of  his  own  boundlefs  love,  too  great  to  be  fatis- 
fied  with  conferring  only  temporary  favors  in  this  im- 
perFe6l  ftate,  and  they  are  pleated  in  partaking  the  fall 
effedls  of  that  love,  who  arc  we,  that  we  fhould  be 
difpleafed  ?  or  that  we  flioiild  oppofe  our  fatisfa6lion 
to  that  of  the  glorious  God,  and  the  glorified  creature  ? 
**  Therefore,  Madam,  whereas  you  cannot  avoid 
thinking  miich  on  this  fubjecl,  anchavi.ng  the  removal 
of  that  incomparable  perfon  for  a  great  theme  of  your 
thoughts,  I  only  propofe  moil  liumbly  to  your  honor, 
thai  you  would  not  confine  them  to  the  fadder  and 
darker  part  of  that  theme.  It  hath  alfo  a  bright  fide, 
and  it  equally  belongs  to  it,  to  confider  whither  he  is 
gone,  and  to  whom,  as  whence,  and  from  whom.  Let, 
1  befeech  you,  your  mind  be  more  exercifed  in  con- 
templating the  glories  of  that  flate  into  which  your 
blefied  Confort  is  tranfiated,  which  will  mingle  plea- 
fure  and  fweetnefs  with  the  bitternefs  of  your  afflict- 
ing lofs,  by  giving  you  a  daily  intelleclual  participa- 
tion, through  the  exercife  of  faith  and  hope,  in  his 
enjoyments.  He  cannot  defcend  to  fhare  with  you  in 
your  forrows  ;  but  you  may  thus  every  day  afcend, 
and  partake  with  him  in  his  joys.  He  is  a  pleafanf 
iubjeci:  to  confider.  A  prepared  fpirit,  made  meet 
for  an  inheritance  with  them  that  are  fanclified,  and 
■with  the  faints  in  light,  now  entered  into  a  flate  fo 
connatural,  and  wherein  it  finds  every  thing  moil  a- 
greeable  to  itfelf!  Kow  highly  grateful  is  it  to  be 
united  with  the  true  centre,  and  come  home  to  the 
Pather  of  fpirits  !  to  confider  how  pleafant  a  wel- 
come, how  joyful  an  entertainment  your  Confort  hath 
met  with  above  !  how  delighted  an  aifociate  he 
is  with  the  general  AlTembly,  the  innumerable  com- 
pany of  Angels,  and  the  Spirits  of  juft  men  made  per- 
ic&. !  how  joyful  a  homage  he  continually  pays  to  the- 
throne  of  the  celeftial  King! 

Will 


Lady  Rachel  Russell,  271 

Will  your  Ladyfhip  think  that  a  hard  faying  of  our 
departing  Lord  to  his  mournful  difciplcs  :    If  ye  loved 
tne,  ye  would  rejoice  that  Ifaidy  I  go  to  the  Father ;  for 
tny  Father  h  greater  than  L  John  14,  28.      As  it  he 
had    faid,   '*.He  fits   enthroned  in  higher  glory  than 
you    can  fran:ie  any  conception  of,  by  belioldiiig  me 
in  fo  mean  a  condi'iion  on  earth."  We  are  as  remote, 
and  as  m.uch  fliort  in  our  thoughts,  as  to  conceiving  the 
glory  of  the  fupreme  King,  as  a  peafant,  who  never 
law  any  thing  better  than  his  own  cottage,  from  con- 
ceiving   the  Splendor   of  the  moll:  glorious  Prince's 
court.     But    if  that   faith  which  is   the   fubflance  of 
things  hoped  for,  and  the  evidence  of  things  not  fecn, 
be  much  accuftomed  to  its  proper  work  and  bufinef?, 
the  daily,  delightful  vifiting  and  viewing  of  the  glori- 
ous  invifibie    regions  ;  if  it  be   often   converfant  in 
thofe  vaft  and  fpacious   trads    of  pure  and   brightelt 
light,  and  among  the  holy    inhabitants  that   replenilh 
them  ;  if  it  frequently  employ  itfelf  in  contemplating 
their  comely  order,  perfeA  harmony,  fublime  wildcm, 
unfpotted  purity,  molt  fervent  mutual  love,  delicious 
converfation  wiVn  each  other,  and  perpetual,  pleafant 
confent  in  their  adoration  of  their  eternal  King  — who 
is  there,  to  whom  it  would  not  be  a  folace  to  think,  I 
have  fuch  and  fuch  friends  and  relatives,  fome  perhaps 
as  dear  as  my  own  life,  perfe(5ily  well  pleafed  and  hap- 
py among    them  ?   How    can  your  love.    Madam,   fo 
generous  a  love  towards   fo  deferving  an  cbjeft,  how- 
can  it  but  more  fervently  fparklc  in  joy  for  his  fake,- 
than  diilblve  in  tears  for  your  own  ? 

Nor  fhould  fuch  thoughts  excite  over-hafly,  impa- 
tient defires  of  following  prefently  to  heaven,  but  to 
the  endeavors  of  ferving  God  more  cheerfully  on 
earth  for  our  appointed  time  ;  whichi  earncOly  defire 
your  Ladylhip  to  apply  yourfelf  to,  as  you  would  not 
difpleafe  God,  who  Is  your  only  hope,  nor  be  cruel 
to  vourfelf,  nor  diihonor  the  religion  of  Chriftians, 
aslf  they  had  no  other  confolaiions  than  this  earth 

can 


«£72  Memoirs  ©p 

can  give,  and  earth:y  power  can  take  from  tbeir 
Ycur  Lsdyihip,  if  any  one,  would  be  loth  to  do  ar 
thing  unworihy  your  family  and  parentage.  Yc; 
111 gheil  alliance  is  to  that  Father  and  Family  abo- 
whofe  dignity  and  honor  are,  I  doubt  not,  of  highc. 
account  with  you. 

I  multiply  wordsjbeinglotbtolofe my defign.  I  fhail 
only  add  that  confideration  which  cannot  but  be  valua- 
ble wiih  you,  upon  the  firft  propofal  of  him  who  had 
all  the  advantages  imaginable  to  yht  it  its  full  weighs 
I  mean  that  cr  thofe  i/iar  pledges  left  behind,  M 
own  heart  even  bbedsto  think  of  the  cafe  of  thoi- 
fweet  babes,  fhould  ihey  be  bereaved  of  their  other 
parent  too  :  and  evtii  your  continued  vifible  dejeclicn 
would  be  their  unfpeak able  difadvantage.  You  al- 
ways naturally  create.iri  them  a  r<;verence  of  you  ; 
and  I  canROt  but  apprehend  how  the  conftant  mien, 
afpecl  and  deportment  of  fiich  a  pareitt  will  infeni:- 
b'y  ih3ijence  the  temper  of  duriful  children,  and,  ii 
they  be  fad  and  defpondent,  deprefs  their  fpirits,  and 
take  off  that  ed^e  and  quicknefs,  upon  which  their 
comfort  and  ufefnlnefs  will  much  depend.  Were  it 
p  'lii'^ie  their  now  glorious  father  fhculd  viflt  and  in- 
i^€\  .ou,  would  you  not  be  troLibled  to  behold  a 
Uo\.  r.  in  that  Lright  and  ferene  face  r  You  are  to 
piealo  a  rr;Gre  penet  rating  eye  ;  which  you  will  do  befl 
by  putting  on  a  temper  and  deportment  fuitable  to 
your  weighty  charge  and  duty,  and  to  the  great  pur- 
pofes  for  which  God  continues  you  in  the  world,  by 
giving  ever  unnecelT^ry  folitude  and  retirement, 
w  hich,  though  they  pleafe  you,  i\o  really  prejudice 
you,  and  are  more  than  you  can  bear.  Nor  can  any 
rules  ot  d^ztncy  require  more.  Nothing  that  is  necef- 
fary,  and  truly  Chriftlan,  ought  to  be  reckoned  unbe- 
coming. David's  example,  ■2  Sam.  12.  20. j  is  or 
too  great  authority  to  be  accounted  a  pattern  of  irKij- 
cer.cy.  The  G'id  of  heaven  lift  up  the  light  of  hit 
countenance  upon  yon,  and  thereby  put  gladnefs  into 

ycur 


Ladt  Rachel  Rissell.  2*3 

yonr  heart,  anl  riv;  t--  t^  sT^rrr^rr^  ^-~  -*  '-r  tt? 
ycHi,  Arife,  : 

Thatlhav^L.--. .    : . 

ro  apjiOiT,  bet  do  thereto-?  hide  r* 
nor  •      : .  -  -  _  -  ^  ^  -  -        .     - 

tr.-. 
conn:  ^: 

eve: 

ber 

Cioit  iiiicerchonorcr,and^i20tt  humbie^Gevoteu  icr^a... 

Welhall  corcVce  the  rr:f^eir?  of  Ladv   R-:  .  " 
xrith  a  rc^rlcsl  tribute  to  her  metric rv.extrideJ  i::... 


/; 


:  ...^Hh- 
Jr.:    ..   ■ 
o 


:hs  ieiicr  was  ^iuss'Ut »  fi*:s^c, 


<274  Memoirs  of 


Mrs.  ELIZABETH  BURNET. 


s 


iHE  was  born  November  8,  1661.  In  the 
.coiirfe  oi  her  early  education,  fhe  read  -with  great  at- 
tention the' volumes  which  were  put  into  her  h^nds, 
but  afpired  after  more  folid  and  fublime  lentiments 
than  are  to  be  met  with  in  mod  books.  At  eleven 
rears  of  age,  fhe  began  to  have  a  true  fenfeofie- 
v'^^ion. 

Being  married,  at  about  feventeen,  to  Robert  Berke- 
ly,  Efq.  and  going  to  live  in  the  family  of  her  huf- 
"band's  mother, The  had  the  affliction  to  find  her,thougI) 
a  woman  of  exemplary  life,  a  zealous  Pa])ift.  This 
<:ircumll:ance  excited  her  to  peculiar  attention  in  fludy- 
iing  the  controvcrfy  betv/een  the  Proteftants  and  Papifts, 
that  fo  Ihc  might  guard  her  hufband  and  herfelf  a- 
gainft  the  artifices  of  Pop!  Hi  priefts,  and  the  influence 
of  his  motlier,  who  had  great  power  over  him.  The 
particular  turn  of  his  mind,  and  the  deference  fhe 
wi filed  to  pay  to  his  parent,  occafioned  her  fome  per- 
plejfity,  efpecially  as  ilie  wifhed  to  avoid  all  dif- 
putes  about  religion,  which  were  not  abfolntely 
jieceffary.  But  her  admirable  difcretion  carried  her 
through. 

At  the  fame  time,  Vne  inculcated  on  herfelf  a  more 
;han  ordinary  exadlnefs  of  attentioa  to  the   offices   of 

piety, 


Mrs.  Eliza heth  Blrnkt.  275 

piety,  and  tlic  duties  of  life.  She  ftiidied  to  adorn  I>cr 
prok-lfi  )n  by  her  pradtice,  coiiflantly  governing  htr- 
ielf  by  the  (tridelt  rules  of  religion  and  virtue.  J/iv- 
ing  in  the  country,  where  fhc  enjoyed  much  leifurc, 
Ihe  LMve  a  ;2;reat  portion  of  her  time  to  devotion  and 
readinu;.  When  inclined  to  divert  iierftlf  with  work, 
fhe  generally  caufed  fome  pcrfon  to  read  to  her  :  and 
when  her  poor  neighbours  came  to  vifit  her,  which  fhc 
encouraged  them  to  d':>  often,  Ihe  frequently  read  piou:t 
books  to  them  herfelf,  that  fhe  might  in(tru(5t  them 
without  the  appearance'of  affuming  a  fiiperioiity. 

In  this  manner  fhe  lived  lor  fix  years)  ef^eemed  and 
loved  by  all  who  knew  her,  not  excepting  thofe  who, 
on  accoiuit  of  difF^jrent  opinions  in  religion,  were  like- 
ly to  be  mod  prejudiced  again(l  her. 

In  King  James's  time,  when  the  fears  of  Popery 
began  greatly  to  increafe,  and  Hifliop  Fell  being  dead, 
■who  had  had  a  principal  influence  in  preventing  Mr. 
Berkely's  being  gained  over  to  the  principles  of  his 
relations,  Mrs.  Berkely  prevailed  on  him  io  go  t-o 
liolland.  Accordingly  they  travelled  t(;gciher  over 
the  fevcnteen  provinces.  In  the  Popifh  provinces, 
tlicy  met,  on  account  of  his  relations,  a  fmgularly 
kind  reception,  letters  having  been  fent  without  their 
knowled.'e,  to  BrufTels,  Ghent,  Liege,  and  other  con- 
liderable  places,  rccommcndir.g  Mrs.  Berkely  parti  - 
cularly,  as  one  whofe  piety  and  \irtuc  were  great 
enough  to  entitle  her,  had  fhe  been  of  the  Catholic 
Church,  as  they  called  it,  to  the  charader  of  a  Saint. 

After  thefe  journies,  Mr,  and  Mrs.  Berkely  fixed 
at  the  Hague,  where  fhe  foon  became  known,  and 
enjoyed  a  high  place  in  the  efleem  and  friendlhip  of 
the  moft  refpe6tablc  characters.  They  cofitinued 
liere  till  about  the  time  of  the  Revolution,  when  they 
returned  to  England;  and  retired  to  their  country-feat 
»t  Spetcjdy., 


:r  ■  Memoirs  of 

Here  Mrs.  Berkely  refumed  her  former  coiirfe  of 
jiie,  and  made  the  happieit  progreCs  in  the  doctrines 
snd  pradlice  of  religion.  She  had  generally  fome 
young  perfons  in  her  family,  for  the  purpofe  of  edu- 
catijr.,  on  whom  her  excellent  inftru6tions  and  exam- 
ple operated  fo  powerfully ,  as  foon  to  produce  a  vili- 
ble  alteration  \\\  tlieni. 

Her  knovvled(;;e  and  virtue  attra(9.ed  general  notice. 
She  contra6led  aii  intimate  friendlfrip  with  the  emi- 
nent Dr.  StiiiingUcct,  Jjilhop  of  Worceftcr,  who  to 
liis  death  maintained  a  high  etleem  for  her,  and  was 
frequently  heard  to  declare  that  he  knew  not  a  woman 
in  England  who  was  her  fuperior. 

In  the  year  1693,  her  liufcand  v/as  rem>oved  by- 
death.  From  tlds  period,  as  flie  had  more  leifure,  fo, 
file  applied  herfelf  more  entirely  to  devotion,  to  read- 
ing, to  acls  of  charity,  and  the  offices  of  friendChip.. 
She  took  upon  herfelf  the  fame  care  of  her  late  huf- 
band's  Proteftant  relations  as  if  they  had  been  her 
own.  Indeed  flie  exhibited  to  them  the  tendernefs  of 
a  mother,  fo  long  as  (he  lived,  and  manifefted  her. 
kindnefs  for  them  at  her  death.  Nor  did  any  of  his 
family  fail  to  receive  from  her  the  demonftratlons  of 
a  fjncere  benevolence  and  friendiliip. 

Having  a  large  income,  fhe  mianaged  it  with  equal 
prudence  and  generofity.  She  feemed  uneafy  at  every 
expenfe  which  did  nor  ferve  the  caufe  of  charity  and 
benevolence.  At  her  hofpitable  manfion,  the  neigh- 
boring clergy  were  always  welcome.  To  fuch  of 
-them  as  were  in  low  circumftances,  flie  paid  particu- 
lar attention  and  refped,  cordially  eft'eemingthem.  fo^ 
their  functions  anil  labors.  She  frequently  made  them 
prefents  of  the  mofl  iifefnl  books;  and  to  fome  flie 
generoiifly  lent  inoney  without  fecurity,  expecting  on- 
ly to  be  paid  when  by  the  Providence  of  God  they 
might  be  put  into  more  eafy  circumftances, 

Mr.  Berkely  having  ordered  in  hiswill,  that  a  large 
fum  iliould  be  appropriattdfrom  his  citate  to  the   eF=. 

edion 


Mrs.  Elizabeth  Burnet. 


77. 


?(ftion  of  a  hofpltal  at  Worcefter  for  the  poor,  fhe  nf- 
ed  great  care  and  ailiduity  to  have  thccleiign  perfcc^t- 
ed  as  foon  as  poflible  ;  and  it  pleafed  God  to  contin- 
ue her  life  till  fhe  favv  it  accompli flied.  Befide  the 
care  of  this  bufinefs,  (lie  took  upon  herfelf  feveral 
payments  of  debts  and  legacies  from  his  edate,  beyond 
what  the  law  required.  She  alfo  continued  an  emi-7 
nent  inftance  of  charity,  to  which  {he  had  engaged 
Mr.  Berkely  in  his  life  ;  a  charity,  which  has  fincej 
by  the  divine  blefling,  fpreadalmofl:  all  over  England  ; 
the  fettingup  of  fchocls  for  the  inftruclion  and  edu- 
cation of  poor  children.  The  number  of  thefe  fchools 
ihe  afterwards  greatly  increafcd. 

After  a  widowhood  of  near  feven  years,  fhe  was 
married  to  Dr.  Burnet,  Billiop  of  Salifbury.  In  his 
houfe  ihe  found  a  family  of  children,  whom  fhe  treat- 
ed neither  with  excelfive  indulgence,  nor  unnatural  fe- 
verity,  but  with  all  the  tender  concern  for  their  edu- 
cation and  befl:  interefls  which  fhe  could  ha\e  exhlb- 
ed,  had  they,  been  her  own,  >  In  return,  fhe  received 
from  them  every  exprefficn  of  filial  duty  and  love  : 
and  the  Bifhop  by  his  will,  left  them  under  her  direc- 
tion in  a  w^ay  much  more  abfolute  than  is  ordinarily 
known  in  the  cafe  of  real  mothers,-  He  gave  anoth- 
er proof  of  his  efteem,  and  of  his  high  fenfeof  the  hap- 
pinefs  he  beftowed  on  his  family  by  bringing  fuch  a 
mother  into  it,  though  Ihe  fliould  bring  nothing  with 
Her,  by  defiring  her  to  retain  the  eniire  difpcfition  of 
her  own  cflate,  and  tobeftow  it  by  will  as  ihe  pleafed. 

After  this,  Oie  extended  her  charity  miich  furiher 
than  before.-  Inftead  of  devoting  a  fifth  part  of  her 
income  to  benevolent  objecls,  fhe  could  with  difficul- 
ty be  reconciled  to  appropriate  as  much  to  her  own 
life.  Hence  the  fums  which  fhe  confecrated  to  char- 
itable purpofes  were  large,  Befide  many  other  in- 
fiances  of  this  kind,  more  than  a  hundred  poor  chil= 
dren  in  and  about  Worcefter  and  Salifhury,  were 
taught  at  her  expenfe.  To  be  rich  in  good  works, 
Z  z  was- 


^7^  Memoirs  of 

was  the  reigning  dcfign,  and  capital  pleafurc  of  he/ 
life. 

Notvvithftanding  the  interruptions  arifing  from  a 
more  diffufivc  acquaintance,  among  whom  Ibe  v/as  in 
the  highel'l  efteem,  flie  fpent  mnch  time  in  vvriiing  on 
divine  and  moral  (iibjecSls.  A  book  of  whicli  llie  had 
made  the  firfl  draught  in  her  widowhood,  dellgningit 
entirely  for  her  own  ufe,  fhe  was  now  prevailed  on  to 
publifli.  Finding  it  much  approved,  and  williing  to 
make  it  ftill  more  ufcful,  llie  printed,  at  her  ov/n  ex- 
penfe  an  enlarged  edition,  and  diitributed  the  volumes 
among  thofe  whom  fhe  thought  moft  likely  to  receive 
benefit  from  them. 

This  book,  entitled  A  Method  of  Devotion,  or  Rul"- 
for  holy  and  devout  livingy  with  Prayers,  bV.  befide 
pafling  through  feveral  imprcflions  in  her  life,  was 
reprinted  after  her  deceafe,  with  memoirs  of  its  Au- 
thor, by  Archbiihop  Goodwyn.  It  exhibits  through- 
out, a  vein  of  good  fenfe  and  fervent  piety.  Its  max- 
ims and  rules  are  excellently  adapted  to  promote  a 
clofecorrefpondtncc  with  heaven,  and  a  growin[^p.rc- 
paration  tor  it.  We  lliall  only  fek£l  an  inftance  or 
two  of  the  method  it  propofcs  for  meditating  on  por^- 
tions  of  fcripture,  together  with  a  rnorning  and  even- 
ing prayer  for  young  perfons.  The  latter  we  Ihall 
add  at  the  clofe  of  thefe  memoirs. 

Pfahn  103.   I 5. 

BJefs  the  Lordy  0  my  f 'Ail  ;  and  all  that  is  within 
me,  hlcfs  his  holy  name. 

All  my  faculties  and  powers,  my  underflanding  and 
tiiought,'  Ihall  be  employed  to  know  my  Creator  and 
Preferver,  by  contemplating  what  is  revealed  in  the 
•vt'orks  andwordof  God  ;  therctoreadthe  wonders  God 
hasdonefor  the  children  of  men  ;  the  free  gift  of  being 
and  creation,   providence  and   prcfervation.     And  to 

what 


Mrs.  Elizabeth  Burnet,  lyg 

•what  end  could  God,  infinitely  Jiappy  inhimfelf,  make 
man,  bnt  to  be  happy  ?  And  Low  can  a  creature  ca- 
pable of  thought,  be  happy,  but  in  fubjeftion  and  de- 
pendence on  a  Being  that  is  perfedl:,  where  pcrfedl 
love  will  cail  out  all  tear — for  fear  has  torment  r  My 
memory  fhall  be  employed  to  treafure  np  and  recount 
often  to  myfelf  and  others,  the  glorious  marks  o[  God's 
v/ifdoni  and  goodnefs,  fo  plainly  ftamped  on  all  his 
•works  :  and  whoever  choofe  to  retain  God  in  their 
minds,  cannot  but  love,  cannot  but  obey  him.  Love 
r.£ceir:^.rlly  attends  all.  known  good,  and  where  the 
gOwd  is  pertecL,  h  mud  be  the  love  and  obedience. 

Verfe  2.  Blefs  the  Lord,  O  my  foul ,  and  for-gct  not 
&U  lis  benefits. 

As  much  as  in  thee  lies,  forget  not  any  ofhis  ben- 
efits.; at  lead,  defire  to  have  a  grateful  ^cn(Q  of  them  all. 

Verfe  3.  Who  forgives  all  thine  iniquities,  andheah 
all  thy  difeafes. 

But  alas  !  how  often  have  I.  forgotten  my  duty,  and 
my  true  happinefs,  by  fufTcring  the  falfe  appearance 
of  good,  or  the  bafe  fear  of  fome  tranfitory  evil,  to  pof- 
fefs  my  mind  !  How  often  have  the  clouds  and  difor- 
ders  of  padion,  the  attraction  of  Vvhat  is  prefcnt,  the 
.allurements  of  fenfe,  and  the  falfe  reafcning  introdu- 
ced to  fupport  the  corrupt  cufloms  of  the  world,  be- 
trayed me  into  fm  and  lolly  !  Yet  thy  long-fuffering 
mercy,  O  Lord,  has  waited  to  be  gracious,  and  has 
not  puniflied  me  as  my  iniquities  have  deferved.  O 
let  me  ever  celebrate  that  mercy  which  not  only  un- 
afl:ed  gives  me  fo  much  good,  but  after  fuch  ungrate- 
ful returns,  continues  to  forgive  me  fo  much  evil  1 
nay,  is  ready  to  hed  thofe  wounds  to  which  my  fol- 
ly has  expofed  me,  audto  give  more  grace  and  ftrenuth. 
even  all  I  need,  if  I  v/ill  but  af^  it,  and  failhfidly  im- 
prove it.  A'cilc 


aSo  Memoirs  or 

Verfe  4.  IVho  redeems  thy  life  from  defiruBl  on  ;  tvh$ 
croiv?JS  thee  with  loving  kindnefs  and  tender  mercies. 

— — Who  when  man  had  by  fin,  whofe  wages  is 
death,  loft  life  and  immortality,  purchafed  again  his 
firft-defigned  inheritance  ;  and  that  not  with  corrup- 
tible filver  and  gold,  but  with  the  precious  blood  of 
the  Son  of  God,  who,  after  a  life  of  fufFering,  and  do- 
ing good,  teaching  a  perredl  law,  and  fetting  a  perfe(5l 
example,  died  for  our  fms,  and  rofe  again  for  ourjuf- 
tlncation,  and  who  will  appe:^f  again  atthe.laft  day, 
to  judge  and  acquit  all  that  believe  and  obey  the  Gof- 
pel,  and  then  pronounce  that  gracious  fentence  :  Well 
done,  good  and  faithful  fervant,  enter  into  the  joy  of 
thy  Lord  :  thou  flialt  receive  a  crown  and  kingdom 
that  fhall  have  no  end,  laid  up  in  heaven  for  thee. 

I  Cor.  13.  I 9. 

Though  I  fpeak  zuith  the  tongues  of  men,  and  of  an'^ 
g^Isy  and  have  not  charity,  I  am  become  as  founding 
i'ra/Sf  or  a  tinhling  cymbal. 

The  ■  greateft  eloquence   and  flame  in  praying   or  ' 
preaching,  without  an  inv/^ard  principle  ot  tiie  love  of 
God  and  his  creatures,  is  but  like  a  dead  inftrument, 
that  may  delight  others  by  being  well   played  on,  but 
has  no  delight  in  itfclf, 

Verfe  2.'  and  3;  And  though  I  have  the  gift  of  proph^ 
ecy^  and  undcrfiand-all  riyJ}e7-ieSy  and  all  hnoiviedge  ; 
and  though  I  have  all  faith  y  fo  that  I  could  remove  moun^ 
tains y  and  have  not  charity  y  I  am  nothing.  And  though 
1  hefioiu  all  my  goods  to  feed  the  poor  ;  and  though  I 
give  77iy  body  to  be  hurned,  end  have  not  charity,  it 
profits  m^  nothing. 

The  gifts  of  prophecy,  or  pleaching,  a  capacity    to 
underftand    and  unfold  obfcure  myfteries,  a  faith    oi 
lairacles,  or  what  is  more  aHouiftiing,  a  faith  of  mar- 
tyrdom, . 


Mrs.  Elizabeth  Burnet.  aSr 

tyrdom,  a  iiberality  that  parts  v/ith  all  its  worldly 
goods  to  thofe  who  want,  when  they  are  without  this 
inward  grace  of  charity,  fhall  have  no  reward, and  be 
of  no  profit.  Now  fince  this  grace  is  fo  neceilary, 
and  fo  apt  to  be  mifunderftood,  how  fliall  I  know 
whether  I  have  it  in  truth  ?  The  Apoftle  has  given 
the  following  rules  :  let  them  be  the  rules  of  my  ex- 
aniination  ;  and  it  I  am  fmcere,  I  cannot  greatly  err  ? 

Verfe  4.  Charityfuffers  lov.gy  and  is  kind  ;  charity 
envies  not  ;  charity  vaunts  not  itjelf,  is  not  eajily  puf- 
fed up. 

Do  not  the  ingratkr.dc  or  injuries  I  meet  with, 
weary  out  thofe  proper  aces  of  kindnefs  due  to  the  in- 
jurious: Do  I  not  envy  the  profperous,  efpecially 
thofe  I.  favor  nor  r  Am  I  not  exaltcvl  at  my  own  prof- 
pcrity  ;  and  do  I  not  make  a  vain  boaff,  as  if  it  were 
the  etfc6l  of  my  own  fkill,  or  the  rev/ard  of  my  mer- 
it, and  not  the  gift  of  God  ? 

Verfe  5.  Does  not  behave  itfeif  unfecmlyy  feels  not 
her  GZim,  is  not  eafiy  provoked,  thinks  no  evil. 

Do  I  not  by  my  contempt  of  thofe  below  me,  increafe 
the  miferies  of  their  poverty  r  Do  I  choofe  to  give 
up  fome  little  benefit  to  myfelf,  rather  than  that  it 
fhould  occafion  fome  great  and  more  grievous  evil  to 
my  neighbor  ?  Am.  I  not  apt  to  be  provoked,  and  to 
fufpedl  ill  intentions,  without  uifiic lent  ground  r 

Verfe  6.  Rejoices  not  in  iniquity ,  hut  rejoice:  in  the  truth. 

Do  I  not  rejoice  in  injuflice,  when  I  may  be  prof^ 
ited  by  it  r  Do  I  rather  rejoice  in  what  is  jufi  and 
'.rue,  though  it  conduces  to  my  damage  ? 

Verfe  7.  Bears  all  things,  believes  all  things,  hope's 
w//  things  J  endures  all  things,  r       ■     ^^■ 

Dc 


aSa-  Memoirs  or 

Do  I  bear  patiently  thofe  things  that  are  mcfc 
grievous  ?  Am  I  ready  to  put  thcbeft  conftrijclion  on 
doubtful  a6lIons,  and  to  believe  the  belt  1  can  with* 
reafon  ?  And,  v/here  truth  and  evidence  reftrain  iny 
charity,  do  I  at  lealt  hope  better  for  the  future  ;  and 
does  that  hope  incline  me  to  pray  for  thofe  who  life 
nie  ill,  and  endure  the  p.refent  inconveniences  fo  long 
as  any  ground  ot  hope  remains  r 

^/erfe  8.   Charity  never  faih^  i^c,  ■ 

Such  a  charity,  and  fuch  alone,  will  never  fail. 
It  is  both  more  excellent  and  more  necelTarvj  than  all 
other  gifts  and  graces  ;  and  will  be  more  lading  \  for 
it  will  go  with  us  into  heaven  itfelf.  Heaven  can- 
not be  without  it  r  and  in  whatever  bofom  it  is  per- 
fe6t:ed,  heaven  is  in  great  meai''u re  there.  O  my  foul, 
think  often  of  the  beauty  of  a  univerfal  goodnefs,  the 
true  greamefs  of  forgiving  and  doing  good  for  evil,  of 
an  unatTecled  humility  from  a  true  knowledge  of  one's 
{elf,  and  the  great  fecurity  of  conllancy  and  perfever- 
ance  in  doing  good,  v/hatever  ill  returns  or  difap^ 
pointments  we  meet  with,  by  doing  it  for  God's  fake, 
snd  for 'the  relation  mankind  have  to  God. 

It  maybe  fafely  aflirmed,  that  the  daily  obfervance 
of  fuch  a  method  as  this,  in  drawing  out  the  hidden 
riches  of  fome  feleft  portion  of  fcriptnre,  by  medita- 
tion, with  mingled  felf-application  and  prayer,  would 
be  one  of  the  happiefl  means  to  acquaint  iis  with  our 
Bibles,  fo  that  theword  of  God  Ihould  dwell  richly 
in  us  ;  as  likcwife  to  inform  the  judgment,  diredl: 
the  confcience,  pacify  and  comfort  the  foul,  and  ex- 
cite us  to  all  holy  duty.  To  pafs  haftily  over  many 
chapters  of  facred  Writ,\7ithout  paufing  to  give  it  en- 
trance, is  far  lefs  likely  to  turn  to  account,  than  the 
careful  examination  and  ferious  improvement  of  a  i^w 
vtrrfes  only,     A  bird  may  range  for  hours  over  a  fpa* 

ciovis 


Mrs.  Elizabeth  Burnet.  ^83 

«ious  flower-garden,  -^vithout  cclle6ling  any  food  : 
while  the  bee,  confining  iifelf  to  a  few  fiowers,  ex- 
plores them,  dwells  upon  them,  and  quits  them  not 
-without  extradi;;g  and  bearing  away  their  precious 
treafures.  Let  us  not  merely  read,  huxjiudy  our  Bi- 
bles, and  improve  them  as  our  great  help  in  prayer, 
"  Indeed,"  fays  Mrs.  Burnet,  in  her  preface  to  the 
work  above-mentioned,  "the  Bible  is  the  beft  prayer- 
book,  and  is  full  of  noble  thoughts  that  may  by  an  or- 
dinary capacity,  and  with  little  alteration,  be  turned 
into  the  language  of  devotion." 

She  kept  a  journal  of  her  life  ;  employing  a  por- 
tion of  time  every  evening  in  recoUedling  and  weigh- 
ing her  condu6l  and  difcourfe  through  the  day  ;  and 
carefully  marking  every  error,  in  order  to  avoid  it  in 
future. 

She  well  knew  how  to  diftinguKh  between  the  means 
and  end  of  religion,  and  juft ly  appreciated  the  impor- 
tance of  each.  As  fbe  was  exemplarily  ft ri«5l  and  con- 
fcientious  in  the  duties  of  piety  and  devotion,  both 
private  and  public,  (he  was  no  lefs  diligent  in  main- 
taining a  careful  government  of  her  pallions,  a  cori- 
flant  watchfulnefs  over  her  whole  condud,  and  an  ar- 
dent zeal  to  abound  in  every  good  work. 

Though  unfRilled  in  the  learned  languages,  yet  by 
making  the  bible  her  chief  ftudy,  by  the  ufe  of  the  beft 
Commentators,  and  and  by  availing  herfelf  of  the 
learning  of  thofc  clergymen  with  whom  fhe  was  ac- 
quainted, {lie  attained  an  uncommon  knowledge  of 
the  fcriptures.  When  converfmg  with  divines  and 
Scholars  with  whom  (he  was  intimate,  fhe  frequently 
took  pleafure  in  difcuding  deep  and  difficult  fubjecls. 
But  in  mixed  companies,  and  on  ordinary  occalions, 
she  was  exceedingly  diftant  from  the  affedfation  of  un- 
common knowledge. 

Her  thoughts  on  the  fubjeft  of  religion  were  gene- 
rous and  noble.  She  confidered  thofe  the  beft  repre- 
fentauons  of  it,  which  made  it  appear  beautiful   and 

lovely  J 


£84  MexMoirs  of    - 

lovely  ;  and  which  tended  to  promote  purity  of  henrtj, 
united  with  an  exahed  zeal  and  fervor  in  the  affec- 
tions. Yet  ihe  guarded  againlt  all  enthufiafm  ;  nor 
ever  affcdted  to  be  wife  above  what  is  written.  In 
her  laft  years,  (lie  delighted  mod  in  bocks  which  treat- 
ed on  the  inward  life  of  reiigion,  the  reparation  of  the 
foul  from  all  creatures,  and  sn  entire  refignation  of 
every  thing  to4he  will  of  God.  But  above  all,  fiie 
%vas  cpnfiant  in  reading  the  Scriptures  daily,  frequent- 
ly obferving  that  *  the  reading  of  the  pra61:ical  parts 
of  them  with  a  fpirit  of  humility,  and  in  fimplicity  of 
heart,  with  earncH:  prayer,  and  ardent  defires  to  un- 
deritand  the  w^ill  of  our  hear.eiily  Father,  was  the  bed 
way  to  know  of  any  do£lri?:je,  whetiier  it  was  of  God 
or  not.'  Sr.e  read  the  Bible  rather  as  a  mean  to  raifc 
her  foul  to  great  and  fublinie  views  of  Gcd,  and  to  a 
iioble  fenfe  or  foiid  virtue,  than  from  fpeculative  curi- 
oHty,  or  a  wifli  to  iliine  in  CGnverfa*:lon.  And  indeed 
fnt  fometimes  fp.>ke  on  thefe  fubjeils  in  frrains  that 
:^pproached  to  rapture,  and  fuch  as  charmed,  while 
they  animated,  thqfe  who  heard  them« 

Though  her  mind  was  naturally  inquifitive,  her  ap- 
prehenf).'>n  quick,  and  her  judgment  foiid,  yet  flic  con- 
fined her  inquiries  to  a  few  things.  Accordingly^ 
•when  fhe  had  made  fome  progrcfs  in  Geometry  and 
natural  Philofophy,  (lie  laid  thofe  iludics  ailde,  while 
her  relilh  for  them  was  yet  unabated.  She  applied 
the  whole  force  cf  her  mind  to  religion  ;  and  even  in 
that,  (lie  valued  knowledge, only  as  it  purified  the 
rnind.  Her  grand  concern  was  to  govern  her  pailions, 
to  moderate- her  defires  toward  created  obje(^s,  and  to 
have  her  whole  ioul  habitually  refigned  and  conform^ 
ed  to  the  holy  Vv'ill  of  God, 

Slie  had  a  ji'il  fenle  of  the  danger  of  Popery,  and 
often  blelfed  God  for  the  Revolution ,  which  (he  zeal- 
ouOy  defended,  confideiing  the  prefervation  and  fecur- 
ity  of  the  Proteftant  religion  as  intimately  conneded 
Tvith  it.     Yet  her  rifle tfions  were  ^owife   aliena'.ed 

from 


Mrs.  Elizabeth  Burnet^  2)?| 

frcm  thofe  who  entertained  different  fentiments.  She 
was  very  careful  to  avoid  v/hat  tended  to  contention 
on  this,  and  every  other  fubjedt.  If  an  unhappy  dif* 
ference  arofe  among  her  friends,  (he  immediately  in- 
tcrpofed  to  effecl  a  reconciliation  ;  and  was  often  fm- 
gularly  fuccefsful  in  her  benevolent  attempts. 

If  any  were  fpokcn  againfl  in  company  where  fiic 
was,  (he  endeavored  to  vindicate  or  excule  them,  if 
pra6licable  ;  if  othervvife,  ilie  exerted  herfelf  to  turn 
the  difcourfe  to  fome  other  topic. 

She  confidercd  formal  vifits  as  one  of  the  burdens 
of  life,  though  fhe  did  not  fuiTer  herfelf  to  neglc£t 
any  civilities  of  this  kind,  which  could  be  rationally 
expe6led  from  her.  Her  difcourfe  in  company  v/as 
clieerful,  though  guarded.  Few  among  thole  pofiefT- 
ed  of  her  piety,  have  attained  to  fuch  fprigi.itlinefs  and 
innocent  freedom.  Severe  to  herfelf,  the  avoided  all 
appearance  of  feverity  to  others,  andall  oftentatioQ 
of  piety.  Nor  was  ihe  prone  to  cenfure  thofe  who 
did  not  iattain  the  flri6lnefs  which  in  herfelf  fne 
thought  indifpenfable.  Her  delign  was  to  render  fe- 
rious  religion  as  agreeable  to  all,  as  poflible. 

Her  hum/ility  was  vifible  in  her  v/holeconverfation. 
She  was  eminent  in  her  condefcenfions  to  thofe  be- 
low her.  She  utterly  contemned  the  pomps  of  life. 
Her  necelTary  compliances  with  what  was  ufual  among 
thofe  of  her  rank,  in  point  of  drefs  and  diet,  were 
chaftened  with  great  plainnefs,  though  in  nothing  did 
(lie  afFe6l  fmgularity. 

In  her  friendlhips,  Hie  was  moflconftant  and  faith- 
ful. She  cheerfully  embraced  every  opportunity  of 
ferving  her  friends,  efpecially  in  their  bed  intercfts  ; 
for  this  file  conceived  to  be  the  befl  and  nobleft  end 
of  friendfhip.  She  conHdered  herfelf  as  but  half  dif- 
charging  her  duty  to  thofe  with  whom  fiie  was  inti- 
mate, unlefs  befide  her  bed  advice,  and  faithful  re- 
proofs, (lie  gave  them  a  place  in  her  prayers. 

A  a  She 


p.^  Memoirs  o.f 

She  W2S  an  excellent  economic  of  her  time.  She 
.prayed,  read  and  wrote  Co  much,  that  it  might  natural- 
'ly  have  been  thought  (he  mud  have  confined  herfelf 
ahnofl  entirely  to  her  clofet:  yet  (he  was  fo  confiant- 
Jy  employed  in  doing  good,  fo  helpful  to  her  iriends, 
and  fo  eafy  of  accefs  to  all,  that  it  was  difhcult  to 
conceive  y/h^t  opportunity  fhe  could  have  for  retire- 
.ment. 

A  perfon  fo  eminent  in  every  thing  amiable,  can- 
not eafily  be  fuppofed  to  have. had  many  enemies.  In 
ihe  few  inilances  of  this  kind^which  occurred,  Ihe  very 
-clearly  manifefted,  by  the. returns  fhe  made  for  ill  of- 
fices, that  fhe  could  not  only  forgive  from  the  heart, 
but  overcome  evil  with  good. 

Under  frequent  indifpofitions of  body,  (he  exhibited 
not  only    patience  and    refignation,    but   remarkable 
cheerfulnefs.      Efpecially  did  fhe  learn  from  thefe  af-. 
iiidions  to  bear  the  lefs  important  evils   of  life  with 
.great  equanimity.       Itv/asfeldom  obferved  that  any 
perplexity    or   difappointm-ent    in  her    private  affairs 
^ave  her  ccnfiderable  uneafinefs  ;  though  her  concern 
for  her  friends  and  the  public  was  fo  great,  that  any 
calamities  which  af!li6led,    or  even  threatened    them, 
would  afFed  her  mod  fenfibly.     He  who  had  oppor- 
tunity'to  know  her  mofl  intimately,  was  often  heard 
to  fay,  that  '^  her    zeal  for  the  public   good,  and  that 
eagernefs  of  fpirit  which  kept  her  intent  upon  it,  was 
the  only  thing  he  had  ever  obferved  in  her,  that  look- 
ed like  excefs." 

After  fhe  had  been  long  affii6led  with  great  debili- 
ty of  conilitution,  her  complaints  affumed  a  very  a- 
larming  afpect.  A  journey,  and  the  ufe  of  medici- 
jial  waters  in  the  year  1707,  efFeded  a  partial  reftora- 
tion.  But  in  the  January  of  the  foUov/ing  year,  fhe 
wasfeized  with  a  pleuritic  fever,  under  which  fhe 
funk  in  a  few  days.  The  nature  of  the  diforder  pre- 
..vented  her  fpeaking  much,  but  fhe  exhibited  through- 
'<iut,  an  entire   refignation  to   the  will  .of  God,   with 

great 


Mrs.  Elizabeth  BbRNET.  23'7 

gr'eat  patience  in  enduring  her  pains.  She  expreiTedi' 
much  inward  joy  and  peace  ;  and  after  her  voice  had. 
entirely  tailed,  llie  mani fefted  by  ligns,  not  only  the 
comfort  (hs  ielt  in  pafTing  tlirough  the  dark  valley,, 
but  her  ardent  ds fire  to  recommend  religicm  to  all  a- 
round  her.  Thus  happily  did  (he  enter  into  the  joy 
of  her  Lord,  exchanging  this  life  for  a  better  in  her 
forty-eighth  year. 

The    prayers  mentioned  above,  are  thefe  v/hich   fol- 
I'nv . 

A  morning  prayer  for  the  uje  of  young  perfons. 

0  eternal  God,  and  heavenly  Father  !  thou  art  the" 
kind  author  of  my  being  ;  be  thou  the  gracious  guide- 
of  my  life.  My  age  is  fimple  and  unexperienced  ; 
O  be  thou  pleafed  to  infpire  me  with  true  wifdom 
from  above,  that  it  may  direct  me  in  all  my  ways.  I 
am  come  into  a  world  full  of  fnares  and  temptations  ; 
G  do  thou  fill  me  with  the, knowledge  and  love  of  thy 
truth,  that  it  may  keep  me  from  the  ways  that  lead- 
to  deltrudion. 

1  render  unto  thee  unfeigned  thanks  for  all  the  blef- 
fings  I  daily  receive  from  thee,  and  particularly  for 
rsy  prefervation  and  refrefh'ment  the  night  pad". 

O  Lord,  have  mercy  upon  me,  and  forgive  me  all' 
my  iins,  and  give  me  grace  to  fly  all  youthful  lufts,  and 
to  remember  thee  my  Creator  in  the  days  of  my  youth. 

O  poifefs  my  heart  with  the  fear  cf  thee,  and  de- 
pendence upon  thcs.  Let  me  ahvays  walk  as  in  thy 
prefence,  and  as  confidering  I  muft  die,  L  know  not 
how  foon,  and  render  an  account  of  all  the  aclions  of 
my  life.  PoiTefs  alfo  my  heart,  O  my  God,  with  that 
tendernefs  for  my  parents  and  thofe  that  have  the- 
care  of  me,  and  that  Chriftian  fenfe  of  my  duty  to- 
wards them,  that  my  language  may  be  refpe£lful,  m;/? 
anions  dutiful,  and  my  whok  behavior   fuch   that  I- 

may 


2^S  Memoirs  of 

may  not  Increafe  the  burden  and  care  of  tlicir  llve?^ 
but  prove  a  comfort  and  blefling  to  tliem. 

Blefs  me,  O  Lord,  in  my  learning,  and  deliver  me 
from  iloth  and  idlenefs,  and  ill  company,  and  from 
all  dangers  both  of  body  and  foul,  and  help  me  daily 
to  increafe  in  knov.'ledge  and  wifdom,  and  all  virtue. 

I  commend  to  thy  divine  providence  all  my  friends 
and  relations,  and  all  this  family,  [my  father  and 
mother,  my  brothers  and  fifters,]  and  all  mankind. 
Youchfafe  ns,  O  gracious  God,  all  thofe  graces  and 
bleliings  vvhich  thou  knovveft  to  be  molf  needful  for 
us. 

Unto  thee»  O  my  God,  do  I  dedicate  my  foul  and 
body,  befeeching  thee  to  lake  them  into  thy  care  and 
j3rote(5lion,  that  tiiey  may  be  always  employed  in  thy 
iervice,  to  thy  glory  :  that  having  ferved  thee  faith- 
fully in  this  life,  I  may  at  la(t  obtain  life  everlafting, 
through  the  merits  and  mediation  of  my  blelTed  Sa- 
vior and  Redeemer,  Jefus  Chriil  our  Lord,  in  whofe 
holy  name  and  words,  I  fum  up  my  own,  and  the 
-wants  of  all  mankind.  Our  Father  who  art  in  heav^ 
en,  Cf^. 

An  Evening  Prayer  for  young  perfons, 

O  Almighty  God,  and  m.erciful  Father,  who  wil- 
lingly hearell  the  prayers  of  all  wlio  call  upon  thee 
faithfully,  I  humbly  befeech  thee  to  pardon  whatever 
thou  half  ^\^tn  amifs  in  me  this  day,  in  my  thoughts^ 
words  or  actions,  particularly  [/ji:/'^  mention  particu-^ 
iars.^  Affifl-  me,  O  God,  in  making  it  miy  conlTant 
endeavor  to  refill  and  conquer  every  evil  inclination 
within  me,  and  every  temptation  from  without. 

Help  me  daily  to  grow  in  the  knowledge  and  love 
cf  thee,  my  God,  and  of  my  Savior  Jefus  Chrifl:. ' 

Shew  me  the  way  in  which  I  fhould  walk,  whilft 
\  am  young,  and  grant  I  may  never  depart  from  it. 

Blefs  to  me,  I  pray  thee^  whatever  good  inflruclions 

havQ 


Mrs.  Elizabeth  Burnet.  285- 

liave  at  any  time  been  given  me  ;  help  me  carefully 
16  remember,  and  ferioufly  to  pradife  them,  that  I 
may  be  ever  growing  in  knowledge,  in  wifdom  and 
in  gcodnefs. 

Blefs  and  fave  our  Rulers,  and  all  orders  and  men  a- 
jnong  us,  from  the  higheil  lo  the  lowefh  Lord,  give 
them  all  grace  in  their  feveral  ftations,  to  be  inltru- 
mental  f^r  thy  glory,  and  the  public  good. 

Accept,  O  Lord,  my  humbled  praife  and  thankf- 
giving  for  all  the  goodnefs  thou  hall  this  day,, or  at  a- 
j!)y  time  fhown  me  :  for  all  the  helps  of  preventing  or 
jeftraining  grace  thou  haft  vouchfafed  me  ;  for  what- 
ever I  have  done,  which  is  in  any  m.eafure  acceptable 
to  thee  ;  for  whatever  progrefs  I  have  made  in  my, 
learning  ;  for  thy  prefervation  of  m.e  from  all  tha 
miferies  and  dangoj-s  to  which  frail  mortality  is  eve- 
yy  moment  expofed,  particularly  for  \_hcre  ?nen/ioA  a- 
ny  particular  mercy  received.'] 

I  humbly  commit  my  foul  and  body  to  thy  carc- 
this  night,,  begging  thy  gracious  protection  and  blef- 
fmg. 

And  all  thefe  mercies  and  bleflings  which  I  aik  for 
myfelf,  I  heartily  defire  for  all  my  relations  and. 
friends,  and  for  all  mankind.  Let  it  pleafe  thee  to 
guide  us  all  in  this  prefent  life,  and  condnd  us  fale 
xo  thy  heavenly  kingdom,  through  Jefus  Ghrifi,  cur 
only  Lord  and  Savior,  in  whofe  moll  holy  name  and. 
words,  I  conclude  thefe  my  imperfecl  prayers.  Out:- 
Falher  who  art  in  heaven,  i^c, 

A  a  z 


Mr'. 


^9*3  MeiMoirs  op 


Mrs.  ELIZABETH  BURY.* 


s. 


HE  was  born  in  March,  1644.  Her  father 
died  when  fhe  was  little  more  than  four  years  old. 
Dut  {he  v/as  favored  with  the  life  of  her  mother,  a 
moft  amiable  and  exemplary  Chridian,  for  almoft  fif- 
ty years  afterward. 

The  natural  difpofition  of  Mrs.  Bury  was  pleafant 
imd  ingenuous.  In  company  fhe  was  remarkably 
diftant  from  referve,  iinlefs  flie  apprehended  her  pref-- 
cnce  difagreeable,  or  thought  flie  could  profit  more 
by  her  own  thoughts,  than  by  taking  part  in  the  con- 
verfation. 

She  pofielTed  an  uncommon  force  of  genius,  and 
C[uicknefs  of  apprehenfion.  Her  fagaciou£,  inquifi- 
tive  mind  was  ever  penetrating  into  the  rature  and 
xeafon  of  things.  Nor  was  it  eafy  to  confer  on  her  a 
jiiore  fenfible  obligation,  than  by  contributing  to  h^er 
mental  improvement. 

In  writing  letters,  her  matter  was  fo  ferious,  fpir- 
itual  and  inftrudive,  and  her  flyle  fo  happily  accom- 
modated 

*  The  eminence  of  Mrs.  Bury  in  point  of  Chrijiian 
experience,  and  exemplarinefs  of  charaSler,  and  the  am- 
'pie  materials  of  infiruttion  afforded  by  her  papers,  have 
induced  the  compiler  of  this  volume  corjiderably  to  depart 
frctm  the  ufual  plan  o/" abridgment.  In  fome  infiances, 
he  has  even  enriched  thefe  memoirs  with  matter  not 
found  in  Dr.  Gibbons, 


Mrs.  Elizabeth  BuRV.  291 

rnodated  to  her  fubje61:,  that  her  correfpondence  was 
greatly  coveted  by  perfons  of  the  bcft  information  -dud 
judgment,  even  in  diftant  countries. 

Sxhe  was  a  very  general  ftudent  ;  and  as  fne  pofTeiT- 
cd,  in  addition  to  a  fine  underflanding,  a  very  retentive 
memory,  and  took  great  delight  in  reading,  ihe  foon 
became  a  proticient  in  various  branches  of  knowledge. 

She  often  entertained  herfelf  with  phih/cphy  and 
philology  J  with/)//?^r)',  ancient  and  modern,  with  ;;z////r, 
vocal  and  inftrumental,  with  heraldry^  Xhtgkbesy  and 
mathematics y  and  with  learning  the  Fretich  language. 
Her  obje6l,  in  the  latter  fludy,  was  to  prepare  herfelf 
to  ccnverfe  with  French  refugees,  to  whom  fhe  was  a 
great  benefadrefs.  She  gave  particular  attention  to 
the  Hebreio  language,  which  by  long  application  die 
jrendered  {ij  familiar,  as  to  quote  it  in  converfation, 
when  the  meaning  of  a  text  might  be  illuftrated  by  it. 
Critical  remarks  on  the  idioms  of  this  Linguage  were 
found  among  her  papers,  after  her  deceafe. 

Sho.  took  much  pkafure  in  the  iXu^y  oi anatomy  and 
medicine  ;  being  led  to  it  partly  by  her  own  ill  health, 
and  partly  by  a  defire  to  be  ufeful  to  her  neighbors. 
Such  was  her  proficience  in  thefe  branches,  that  many 
eminent  phyficians  expreiTed  themfelves  lurprifed  at 
her  intimate  knowledge  of  the  human  frame,  and  the 
materia  medic  a. 

Thefe  however  were  her  diverfion,  rather  than  her 
bufinefs.  Her  darling  fiudy  was  divinity,  efpecially 
the  holy  Scriptures,  which  from  childhood  Ihe  had 
taken  for  her  counfelhrs.  In  the  latter  part  of  her 
life,  fhe  devoted  moft  of  her  leiiure  and  fecret  hours 
to  Mr.  Henry's  Expofition  of  the  Bible,  which  fhe 
would  often  fay,  was  the  moft  plain,  pleafant  and 
profitable  book  fhe  ever  read,  and  the  laft,  next  to  the 
Scriptures,  flie  would  ever  part  with.  She  found  in  it 
fo  much  of  God  and  her  own  heart  ;  ^o  much  which 
was  new,  yet  natural  and  weighty,  that  fhe  read  it 
with  lafting  pleafure.  Her  chief  delight  v.'as  in  prac- 
tical 


2-92'  Memoirs  ol*^ 

tical  divinity  ;  and  the  plainer  and  clofer  any   autho*?-' 
was,  the  more  acceptable. 

Yet  with  all  her  knowledge,  which  was  truly  iin-- 
common,  efpecially  in  religion,  flie  frequently  and' 
humbly  ipoke  of  her  ignorance,  in  comuparifon  with-' 
what  others  knew,  and  what  Ihe  ought  to  haveknowrt 
herfelf. 

The  precife  time  and  means  of  her  converHon,  fhe 
could  not  positively  determine,  but  thought  that  that 
blelled  event  took  place  about  her  tenth  year.  Serious 
convidion  fhe  remembered  to  have  had  before  ;  but 
after  that  period,  though  flie  was  not  uniformly  free 
from  jealoufy  refpeding  her  (late,  yet  fhe  perceived' 
grounds  to  hope,  on  the  molt  ferious  examination,  that 
an  effectual  change  had  been  wrought,  ■ 

Her  entrance  thus  early  on  a  life  of  relig^ion,  gave- 
her  many  opportunities  of  glorifying  God,  of  expe- 
riencing his  grace  and  faithfulnefs  toward  her,  and  of 
doing  good  to  others.  The  benefit  and  comfort  fhe ■ 
found  in  early  religion  herfelf,  led  her  to  recommend 
it  with  much  afFc6ticn  and  importimity  to  thofe  a- 
round  her.  There  was  fomelhing  in  the  turn  of  her- 
mind  and  thought,  which  readily  adapted  itfelf  to  the 
capacity  and  temper  of  moil  children.  Her  hrfl  and- 
principal  attempt  upon  their  tender  minds,' was  to- 
bring  them  in  love  with  the  Bible.-  She  pointed  them. 
to  its  hiftorical  parts,  efpecially  fuch  as  were  pecul- 
iarly intereOing  and  intelligible.  She  likewife  taught' 
them  (liort  fentences  and  prayers.  She  difcourfect 
"with  them  in  their  own  dialed.  Thus  (he  gained  their> 
aifedions,  rendered  her  company  and  converfe  at  once- 
picafant  and  inftruclive,  and  by  the  blefling  of  God,, 
was  very  ufeful  to  many. 

Thus,  endeavoring  to  perfuade  and  allure  thofe  a- 
round  her  to  walk  with  her  in  the  path  to  Zion,  fhe" 
held  on  her  courfe  with  great  refolution  and  alacrity  ;. 
proceeding  from  ftrength  to  llrength,  exhibiting  unuf- 
ual  attainments  in  divine  knowledge  and  grace.    The, 

bleiled. 


Mrs.  Elizabeth  Bury*  493 

blefTed  work  which  fhe  began  early  in  the  morning  of 
life,  fhe  unremittingly  purfued  through  the  day.  She 
felt  that  file  had  much  to  do,  and  that,  of  infinite  im- 
portance ;  that  her  feafcn  might  be  fliort,  and  that 
every  moment  claimed  an  improvement.  She  often 
remarked  on  what  is  faid  of  Jacob,  [Gen,  29.  i.)  that 
after  he  had  met  with  God,  he  gathered  up  his  fecty 
(fo  the  original  might  be  rendered)  and  went  on  his 
way  :  an  example  which  ilie  propofed  for  her  own 
imitation. 

In  profecution  of  her  pious  defigns,  '^iXQ  determined 
to  keep  a  daily  m.em>orial,  which  might  be,  as  ilie  ex- 
preiTed  it,<2  zvitnefs  [between  God  and  her  czun  foul.  In 
this  Diary,  which  file  is  fuppofed  to  have  begun  about 
her  eighteenth  or  twentieth  year,  (he  recorded  (fomc- 
times  with  4(puch  m.inutenefsj  the  mod  remarkable 
providences  refpe^ling  herfelf  and  others — the  fol- 
emn  tranfaclions  between  God  and  her  foul,  in  the 
clofet,  family,  fan61uary,  and  her  daily  walk  — the  in- 
iiuences,  confoiations  and  withdrawings  of  the  Spirit 
of  God— her  daily  infirmities,  afflictions,  fupports, 
felf-examinations,  evidences  and  foretalles  of  eternal 
life — her  advances  in  religion,  and  her  apprehended 
decays,  &c.  6cc. 

In  this  method  (he  found  many  advantages  ;  and 
foraetimes  remarked  tliat  were  it  not  for  her  diary,  ihe 
fhould  know  neither  what  (he  was,  nor  what  flie  did, 
nor  what  ftic  had.  By  recourfe  to  it  in  feafons  of  at- 
flidion,  temptation  and  darknefs,  fhe  often  obtained 
great  relief.  The  review  of  psft  experiences  fre- 
quently proved  an  excitem.ent  and  help  to  future  con- 
fidence. Hence  fhe  reccm.mended  the  keeping  of  a 
diary  to  others,  that  God  might  not  lofe  the  glory,  nor 
themfelves  the  comfort  of  their  lives. 

It  was  eafy  to  obferve  a  very  lively  impreffion  of 
the  image  of  God  upon  her  foul  ;  and  the  whole  train 
of  Chrillian  graces  was  exhibited  in  a  beautiful  har- 
jxjony,  in  the  Qourfe  of  her  life  and  condu.dl. 


294  Memoirs  op 

'Her  humnity  appeafed  in  her  courteous  treatment 
of  the  poorell:  around  her,  2nd  her  readinefs  to  con- 
verfe  with  them,  erpecially  it  fhe  perceived  any  prof- 
pe6l  of  doing  them  good.  Her  writings  teltify  how 
vile  fhe  was  in  her  own  eves  whenever  iTie  came  before 
God,  and  how  much  fhe  abhored  herfelf  on  account 
of  the  Lerna  maloruyn^'^  [:\s  file  expreRed  it)  or  the  /«- 
fin i ty  0/ evils  which  (hQ  found  in  her  liriiur  nature, 
and  which  rendered  her  a  burden  to  herfelf.  She  was 
likewife  greatly  humbled  by  obferving  the  conde- 
fcenfions  of  divine  grace  under  all  her  infirmities. 
**  What  grace  !  and  fuch  grace  to  me,  to  unworthy'' 
me,  to  vile,  ungrateful  me  1"  Nothing  fo  much  af-" 
fecfed  her  heart,  as  the  grace  of  God  to  fuch  a  finner* 

Her  patience  under  divine  chaflifemenls  was  re- 
mark able.  -  She  frequently  expre'Jed  h^f^fubiniilion 
to  her  heavenly  Father's  di-fcipline  in  fuch  language 
as  this  :  **  This,  or  anv  other  method.  Lord,  to  take 
away  fin.  This  flefh  (hall  bear  it,  and  this  fpirit 
fhall  not  repine  at  it.  This  is  a  partof  thy  covenant, 
and  I  am  thankful  for  it.  Thou  haft  done  me  good 
by  afiiidions,  and  wilt  do  me  more,  and  therefore  I 
"U'lll  glory  in  them."  Under  the  unkind  treatment 
ot  fome  whom  fhe  had  peculiarly  ftudied  to  oblige,- 
and  whofe  interefts  flie  had  often  efpoufed  to  the  pre- 
judice ot  her  own,  fhe  manifefted  a  very  exemplary 
felf-poflpfiion.  She  had  .a  tender  feeling  of  the fe  iff- 
juries;  but  by  the  grace  of  God,  fhe  was  fuperior  to^ 
them,  and  ftill  rendered  good  for  evil.  She  eyed  God  ■ 
in  all,  and  ever  referred  her  caufe  to  him. 

She  was  thankful  to  her  divine  Benefador  for  the' 
many  bleliings  fhe  enjoyed  in   reference   to  the  pref- 

ent 

*  Lerna  luas  a  lake  near  Argcsy  in  Peloponnefus  where 
Hercules  is  /aid  to  have  fiain  the  Hydra,  ivhofe  heads'- 
dTf  fabled  to  have  grown  again  as  faji  as  they  zvers' 
sut  of.    H^nce  L^rn:^  mAovuoi  may/tgnify  ^n  uif\nity> 

©f  titled 


Mrs.  Elizabeth  Bury.  295 

cnt  world  ;  but  frequently  declared,  '  ftie  would  never 
take  it  for  her  portion,  fmce  God  had  tendered  heav/- 
en  and  himfelf  to  her.'  The  cares  and  vexations  of 
the  v^'orld,  ar.d  efpecially  its  finfulnefs,  had  weanecl 
her  affections  from  it,aiid  caufed  her  to  fi^h  and  pray 
for  her  final  relcafe.  She  was  not  elevated  vviih  its 
fmiles,  unlefs  in  thankful nefs  to  God  ;  nor  deprefTed 
by  its  frowns,  unlefs  (he  apprehended  her  fins  to  be 
the  caufe.  Her  mind  was  generally  in  an  even  (late, 
becaufe  (he  habitually  afpired  after  a  belter  country 
and  inheritance.  **  O  for  thofe. realms  of  light,  and 
love,  aiid  purity  !"  was  her  frequent  ex  predion. 

Her  love  to  the  fouls  of  others  was  manifefted  in 
her  frequent  infirucf ions,  counfels  and  reproofs.  In 
regard  to  her  acquaintance  in  general,  it  v»'as  one  of 
her  firi'l  folicitudes  to  know  how  they  were  refpeding 
religion.  After  ferioufly  and  faithfully  converfing 
with  them  on  the  fubjed,  (he  would  earneftly  pray 
for  them  in  her  clofet  ;  and  was  greatly  thankful 
whenever  (he  found  ferious  impredions  made  on  their 
minds.  She  conilantly  bewailed  the  ignorance,  im- 
piety, profanenefs  and  immorality  (he  faw,  or  heard 
of,  in  any  ;  but  above  all,  thcinfenfibiiity  and  v.ick- 
ednefs  of  the  feed  of  the  righteous  ;  the  children  of 
prayers  and  vows. 

fier  aftedion  for  the  truly  pious  was  very  cbferva- 
ble.  She  delighted  greatly  in  their  company,  and  re- 
garded them  as  the  excellent  of  the  earth,  however 
they  might  be  overlooked  or  defpifed  by  others. — 
She  loved  them  as  the  children  of  God,  and  fellow- 
heirs  of  the  kingdom,  would  diligently  frequent  their 
alTemblies  for  prayer,  and  always  promote  forae 
fpi ritual  converfation.  Where  this  was  negleded 
in  company,  (he  was  difappointed  and  grieved.  In 
her  Diary,  v/e  often  find  her  praying  that  her  vifits  may 
be  made  profitable  to  herfelf  and  others,  that  pre- 
/Cious  time  may  not  be  wafted  in  trifling  difcourfe, 
;Uut  that  (he  and   her  companions  may  be   helpers  of 

cack 


$^9^  Memoirs  op 

each  other's  faith  and  joy,  and  may  have  fome  com- 
forting conference  on  the  kingdom.  She  often  la- 
mented that  the  communion  of  Saints,  which  was  an 
article  of  the  Chriftian  creed,  was  fo  much  forgotten 
by  m.oft  Chriftians  :  and  fonietimes,  on  returning 
from  unprofitable  converfation,  (lie  would  com- 
plain, that  thongh  lliehad  flruck  fire  often,  it  always 
fell  upon  wet  tinder. 

Her  charity  and  beneficence  were  difplayed  to  ma- 
ny efpecially  to  the  houfehold  of  faith,  whether  na- 
tives Qfi  her  cv/n  country,  or  foreigners.  She  fpared 
no  pains  nor  expenfe  during  her  widowhood,  in  car- 
r}'ing  on  her  defigns  for  the  relief  ot  deftitute  families 
exiled  on  account  of  religion,  for  ere<5ling  charity 
fchools,  for  the  maintenance  of  minifters,  and  candi- 
dates for  the  facred  office,  and  for  a  provifion  ot  bi- 
bles and  practical  boohs,  to  be  diltributed  as  there 
fhould  be  occafion.  Many  long  and  expenfive  jcurn- 
les  did  ihe  take  for  promoiinsj  tiiefe  deligns  among  her 
acqnsintance  :  and  l"he  fometimes  pleafantly  remark- 
ed, thatfhe  had  acted  the  part  of  a  beggar  folong,  that 
fhe  was  n  w  almoft  really  one  herfelf.  She  much 
approved  of  perfons'  exprefsly  devoting  a  certain  part 
ot  their  eilate  tr^  pious  and  charitable  ufes.  In  this 
cai'e,  fhe  would  lay,  they  will  not  grudge  to  give  out 
of  a  bag  that  i<:  no  longer  their  own.  She  thought 
that  thofe  who  had  no  children  might  properly,  ifcir- 
cinr: (lances  favored  it,  appropriate  a  tourth  part  of 
their  income  in  this  wav  ;  and  praclifed  according- 
ly herf^If. 

Her  faith  in  Chrifi:,  and  dependence  on  the  coven- 
ant of  her  God  was  the  daily  exerciTe  of  her  foul.  Af- 
ter clearing  up  her  interefi  in  Chrifr,  which  Ihe  did 
with  great  care  and  caution,  (he  prepared  and  nieth- 
c^ized  a  choice  collection  of  proniifes  failed  to  every 
ftate,  relation^  duty,  frame,  temptation  and  difficulty. 
From  thefe  promises,  Ihe  derived  condant  (Irength 
and  comfort  ;  and  on  them  fhe  grounded  her  pravers. 

She 


Mrs.  Elizabeth  Bury.  ^9^ 

S7ie  took  Tier  arrows  out  of  Grd's  own  quiver,  plead- 
ed with  him  from  his  own  word,  and  wreltled  with 
him  in  his  own  rtrength,  for  herfelf  and  others,  in  ev- 
ery ordinance,  and  in  every  fcene  of  life.  She  not 
only  took  fad  hold  of  God,  by  the  promifcs  of  his 
co\'enant,  but  kept  her  hold,  fometimes  hoping  a- 
gainfl:  hope,  till  fhe  had  bafRed  temptation,  fubdued 
corrnption  and  fiirmoun'ed  every  difficulty.  The 
reaches  of  her  faith  after  Chrii1:,her  folemndedicatiqiis 
of  herfelf  to  him,  and  fteady  repofe  of  foul  upon  him, 
as  her  only  rock  and  refuge,  were  fuch  as  did  not  ap- 
pear in  common  Chriflians.  It  might  well  be  faid  to 
her  :  O  ivoinany  great  is  thy  faith  '  And  it  was  often 
faid  :   Be  it  unto  thee  even  as  thou  wilt. 

She  confidcred  vjulking  ivith  God zs  implyin<j  a  liv- 
ing as  in  his  i''i'^X,  in  coniormity  to  him,  and  commu- 
nion with  him,  with  a  hum.ble  fenfe  of  our  own  vi!e- 
nef^,  and  the  divine  condcfcenfion  ;  and  that  v/e  be 
clofe,  fteady,  lively  and  perfevering.  Fler  own  prac- 
tice correfpondcd  much  with  thefc  apprelienfions. — 
She  lived  in  a  habitual  awe  of  the  cmnifcience  of 
God,  in  holy  meditation  en  him,  in  humble  expeda- 
tions  from  him,  and  in  a  conilant  devotion  of  herfelf 
to  his  fervicc. 

She  began  her  day  v/ith  God.  To  him  Hie  confe- 
crated  her  firfl  and  frefhdt  thoughts,  that  flie  miLfht 
guard  againfl  vanity,  temptation  and  w^orldly  difco'm- 
pofure,  and  keep  her  heart  in  tune  for  ihe  fucceedinj^ 
duties  of  the  day.  She  efteenied  the  morning  a  friend 
not  only  to  the  Mufes,  but  to  the  Graces  (in  the 
Cl^riHian  fenfe,}  and  found  it  the  befi  feafjn  for  the 
niofi:  vigorous  fpiritual  fervices. 

When  the  devotions  of  the  family  Cwhich  conf;ucd 
of  reading,  finging  and  prayer)  were  nnifhed,  iht  re- 
turned to  her  clofet,  where  flie  generally  fpent  moft 
of  her  morning.  She  firft  liglttd  hcrlr./rij  'as  (he  ex- 
prelTeG  it)  by  reading  the  l:iolj  Scriptures  ;  ufually 
B  b  with 


?9^  Memoirs  of 

with  Mr.  Henry's  annotations.  She  diligently  com*, 
pared  parallel  texts,  and  took  great  pl^afure  in  re- 
ducing what  fne^found  of  the  hiftorical  kind,  to  its 
proper  time.  She  then  poured  out  her  foul  to  God 
in  prayer,  pleading  his  covenant  grace  and  faithful- 
neis,  with  the  intercelTion  of  Chriil:  ;  bitterly  la- 
iTienting  the  wanderings  of  her  lieart  in  that  duty, 
doling  it  with  fome  hymn  of  praife,  and  an  account 
oi-  the  whole  in  her  diary. 

^Through  th^e  reft  of  the  day,  fhe  walked  with  God, 
carefully  obferving  her  goings,  avoiding  the  occafions 
of  fm,  watching  her  heart,  guarding  her  lips,  ufing 
holy  conference  v/ith  others,  and  frequently  lifting  up 
her  foul  in  ejaculatory  prayer  or  praife.  If  at  any  time 
furprifed  into  fin,  flie  foon  repented,  confefled,  re- 
Tiewed  her  application  to  the  blood  of  cleanfing,  and 
folemnly  engaged  herfelf  to  God  for  greater  ci;-cum- 
fpection  in  future. 

In  the  evening,  as  early  as  fhe  could,  flie  called 
herfelf  to  account  for  what  had  palfed  in  the  day,  and 
again  inferted  the  records  of  herfelf  in  her  diary. — 
liaving  prayed  in  fecret,  Ihc  joined  in  the  devotions 
of  the  family. 

Though  the  people  of  God  were  ever  the  people 
of  her  choice,  ihQ  was  often  called  to  be  in  company 
with  others.  When  expe6j:ing  to  vifit  oj  be  vifited 
by  any  fuch,  fhe  frequently  fupplicated  grace  to  or- 
der her  converfation  aright  ;  that  fhe  might  not  par- 
take in  fin,  but  reprove  it;  that  flie  might  not  coun- 
tenance others  in  trifling  time  away,  but  be  inftrudl- 
ed  hov/  to  employ  them.  She  quickly  obferved  the 
gifts  and  graces  of  others,  and  endeavored  to  draw 
them  forth.  She  particularly  valued  the  converfation 
of  miniilers,  phyficians,  and  perfons  of  extenfive  in- 
:*ormation,  efpecially  fuch  as  had  the  greateil  favor  of 
religion. 

She  often  vifited  the  fick  and  relieved  the  poor.;,— 
fhe  bleiied  God  that 'flic  was  in  cifcum,ft^nces  to  give 

rather 


Mrs.  Elizabeth  Bury-  igi 

father  than  receive.  When  during  her  widowhood, 
{Hq  had  fometimes  given  to  the  laft  penny,  through 
the  delay  of  her  tenants  in  their  payments,  Ihe  oiteri 
obferved,  that  fpeedy  fupplies  came  very  unexpccled- 
ly  ;  as  if  giving  to  the  poor  were  the  readieitway  to 
bring  in  her  debts. 

No  company  was  more  ofrenfive  to  her  than  that  of 
triflers  and  tale-bearers.  She  could  not  forbear  re- 
proving them,  and  fometimes  frowned  them  out  of 
her  houfe.  She  durft  not  defam.e  others,  nor  take  up 
an  evil  report  againd  them,  nor  countenance  thcf' 
who  did.  She  was  never  more  difgnfted  in  convc 
fation,  than  in  hearing  what  others  did,  had  or  faid  , 
what  drelTes  v/ere  worn,  what  entertainments  given, 
what  v/as  the  company  and  difcourfe  ;  and  would 
often  fay:  *'  How  happy  would  it  be,  it'  we  might 
talk  of  things  rather  than  perfons."  Both. her  reli- 
gion and  her  good  {enic  carried  her  above  fuch  triiies 
and  impertinencies. 

Her  worldly  loiTes  were  numerous  and  great,  efpe- 
cially  in  the  latter  part  of  her  life.  On  thefe  occa- 
fions  fhe  would  remark  :  **  The  world  is  not  my  por- 
tion ;  and  therefore  thefe  lodes  cannot  be  my  ruin.  I 
have  all  in  God  now  ;  and  fliail  have  all  this  reliored 
"by  one  mean  or  another,  if  not  to  myfelf,  yet  to  thofe 
who  (hall  furvive  me,  if  God  fees  it  good  for  us." 

She  was  exercifed  with  affli6lions  from  her  youth. 
The  inclemency  of  the  air  where  her  edate  lay,  of  ten 
laid  her  under  the  neceflity  of  removing  to  diftant 
places.  Nor  was  fh«  a  ftranger  to  very  fevere  bodilv 
diforders.  But  under  extremity  of  pain  in  her  head 
or  breaft  (herufual  complaint)  Ihe  ever  fubmitted  with 
exemplary  patience  to  the  fovereign  will  of  God, 
juilifyiiig  him  in  his  fevered difcipiine,  and  often  fay- 
ing '*  {lie  would  not  for  all  the  world  but  have  been 
alHiaed." 

She  fet  a  high  value  on  her  time,  efpecially  the  fea- 
fons  peculiarly  devoted  to  fpiritual  improvement. — 

She 


30O         ^  Memoirs  gf 

iShc- fomctimes  declared,  that  fhe  would  nx)t  lofi?  hes 
morning  hours  with  God,  though  flie  were  fure  ta 
gain  the  world  by  it.  She  was  unwilling  that  the 
pooreft  laborer  ihould  be  iound  at  his  work  before  flie 
■was  at  ^lers.  From  her  youth,  Ihe  agreed  with  her 
J'er^'a^t  to  riic  every  morning  at  four  o'clock,  for  her. 
clofet.  In  this  habit  fhe  continued  the  greater  part 
of  her  life.  For  between  tv/enty  and  thirty  years, 
immediately  previous  to  her  death,  die  m.ore  generally 
jofe  at  five. 

She  carefully  improved  the  day  in  converfation  with. 
h:r  friends.  She  was  always  well  furnifhed  with 
matter  for  ufeful  difcourfe,  and  could  m,ake  very  hap- 
py tranfitions  from  worldly  to  ferious  fubjeds.  Yet. 
ihe  often  complained  of  the  lofs  of  much  precioua 
time  in  giving  and  receiving  vifits,  faying,  flie  could, 
TiOt  be  fatkfied  with  a  life  in  which  fhe  could  neither 
do,  nor  recei^j|^good.  In  her  dinry  fhe  often  remark-. 
i:d,  that  at  fucli  a  houfe,  .(lie  was  very  kindly  enter- 
tertxiined,  but  no  good  done  to  herfeif  or  others. 

It  vv'as  lier  fjequcnt  prayer,  that  atFeclion  might 
ricver  bias  her  judgment,  but  that  reafon  and  reUgion 
iinght  gov^^rn  her  in  every  itate  and  change  of  life. 

Her  firft  marriage  v.^as  to  Griffith  Lloyd,  Efq.  a 
gentleman  of  great  piety,  generoiity  and  uieiulnefs. 
They  lived  to;i,ether  in  great  harmony  and  happinefs 
till  his  death,  which  took  place  about  fifteen  years  af- 
ter their  marriage.  Nearly  the  fame  period  iranf-. 
pired  betv/een  this  event,  and  her  iiiarriage  to  Mr.. 
Btn-y,  a  worthy  and  excellent  minifler,  who  happily 
furvived  to.  communicate  to  the  world  the  memoirs  of 
her  life., 

*'  It  was  pot  poflible,  I  think,"  fays  ?vlr.- Bury, 
**  there  fliould  be  a  more  obfervant,  tender,  indulgent 
and  compalTionate  wife  than  (lie  was.  It  was  never 
in  her  heart  to  defire  any  greater  authority  than  God 
had  given,  I  cannot  but  v/ith  great  afrecSlion,"  he 
^jd,s  **  read  over  her  conftant  and  too  folicitous  con-?^- 

cern 


Mrs.  Elizabeth  Burv.  30^ 

eern  for  me,  and  how  many  hours  and  days  of  prsycr 
by  herfelf,  and,  by  her  procurement,  with  oihcis, 
were  obferved  on  my  account,  for  the  recovery  of  my 
health,  and  the  continuance  and  fuccefs  of  my  mini!- 
try  :  to  which,  under  God,  I  am  perfuadtd  I  owe  my 
life,  and  many  inftances  of  grace  in  the  courfe  of  my 
preaching.  It  has  grieve<l  me  to  think  how  maiiv 
weary  days  and  waking  nights,  how  many  hazardous 
journeys  and  anxious  thoughts,  the  ill  itate  of  m}' 
health  has  occafioned  her  from  year  to  year*  Noi' 
can  I  without  great  thankfulnefs  to  God,  rc{le6l  upon 
the  many  comforts  of  our  lives,  our  tender  and  un- 
broken afFertion  to  each  other,  the  peace  and  plearure 
we  enjoyed  v;ithout  the  alloy  of  a  fmgle  difputej^for 
alm.(^[t  twenty-three  years  ;  a  blefiing  which,  next  to 
the  grace  of  God,  was  chieily  owing  to  her  fingular 
prudence  and  patience,  and  the  excellence  of  her  na- 
tural and  Christian  temper. 

**  Nor  mo  ft  F  forget,  he  adds,  what  others  have 
never  known  till  now,  with  what  meeknefs  ;ind  hu- 
mility, in  the  molt  obliging,  as  well  as  incffennve 
manner,  ihe  has  fometimes  hinted  what  the  fufpected 
amifs  in  my  converfation  and  condudl.  Innumerable^ 
Infirmities  no  doubt  Ihe  induftrioufly  covered  ;-but  ia 
the  tendcrnefs  of  her  affe6lion  for  me,  (lie  never  vvouUi 
let  any  fin  lie  upon  me  which  ihe  thought  might  be  ob- 
ferved by  others,  or  prove  a  blemaHTto  my  profelfion. 
In  one  thing  indeed  ihe  was  apt  to  be  fmart  upon  me  : 
and  that  was  for  not  dealing  faithfully  with  her  in  the 
flips  r  obferved  in  her  ;  but  Ihope  my  confcience  can 
anfwer  for  me  againft  that  charge." 

As  a  miftrefs,  flie  was  very  careful  in  the  choice  of 
her  fervants.  She  feared  ftrife  and  contention  in  her 
family,  left  (he  Ihould  be  difcompofed  in  her  own  fpi- 
rit,  and  the  common  intereft  of  religion  be  obstructed. 
She  never  took  any  perfon  into  her  (ervice  till-flie  had 
fought  divine  dirediori  by  prayer.  When  (he  treated 
with  any  on  thefabjed,  ihe  acquainted  them  not  only 
E  b  7,  with' 


?c!3^  Memoi'rs  op 

with  the  peculiar  bufinefs  of  their  place,  but  witb  the 
religious  orders  of  the  family,  to  which  flie  had  their 
explicit  confent.  When  they  were  once  admitted  to 
her  houfe,  it  was  her  firfl:  and  conftant  care  to  inquire 
into  the  ftate  of  their  fouls,  to  inftruc^  and  catecliifcj 
to  reprove  and  encourage  them,  to  warn  thern  of  the 
inares  and  dangers  of  their  age  and  place,  and  to  en- 
join them  to  take  time  for  fecret  prayer,  reading  the 
Scriptures,  meditation,  and  felf-examination.  She 
v/as  careful  to  difcourfe  over  with  her  fervants  every 
fermon  they  heard  together,  efpecially  on  the  fabbatli, 
and  particularly  inculcated  that  upon  them  in  which 
ihe  tliought  they  were  mo^  concerned.  When  her 
health  and  ftrength  would  all-ow,  fhe  examined  them 
apart,  that  thole  who  could  remember  but  little, 
snightnot  be  difcouraged  by  thofe  who  could  do  bet- 
ter, and  that  d^e  might  have  greater  advantage  for  clofe 
iipplication  to  the  particular  flate  of  each.  In  this 
7.vay,  fhe  became  a  lervant  to  her  fervants,  willingly 
5pending  herfelf,  even  to  extreme  faintnefs  for  their 
^ood.  Her  diary  abundantly  proves  how  inceilantly 
Ihe  prayed  for  them,  according  to  their  particular 
circumilances.  Often  does  flie  there  lament  the  un- 
icachablenefs  of  fome,  melting  into  tears  over  them, 
and  appealing  to  God  for  the  -fmcerity  of  her  endea- 
vors to  do  them  good.  Over  others  fhe  rejoices,  that 
God  had  anfwered  her  prayers,  bleiredher  intlrudlions 
and  brought  them  under  the  bonds  of  the  covenant. 
'*  I  cannot  remember,"  fays  her  hufl^and,  **  any  who 
v/ere  brought  under  her  care,  who  did  not  learn  fome- 
V  hing  of  tiie  method  of  a  fermon  before  they  left  her  : 
and  very  many  had  liieir  memories  improved  fo  far, 
^s  to  bring  home  all  the  leading  particulars,  though 
j-mmerous,  of  the  two  fermons  on  the  fabbath.  When 
ihe  inclined  to  part  with  any  of  her  fervants,  fhe  al- 
^A'ays  confulted  God  in  it.  She  would  then  take  them 
:*nto  her  clofet,  and  very  pathetic^ally  indrdSi  and  ad- 
vifc  them  rcrpcciing  a  proper  conduct,  that  they  might 

be 


Mrs.  Elizabeth  Bury. 


303 


i>e  ^tcceptable  in  other  families.  And  fuch  was  the 
fuceefs  of  thefe  religious  attempts,  that  I  know  not  of 
one  fervant  flie  ever  had,  but  was  firfl  or  laft  under 
fome  awakenings  and  convi<Slions  of  ccnfcience,  and 
apparent  refolutions  for  pod  and  religion,  however 
they  might  wear  off  afterwards.  It  is  common  for 
fome  of  them  If  ill,  on  every  occafion,  to  fpeak  of  her 
care  of  them,  and  prayers  with  them,  when  the  fami- 
ly was  left  with  her,  as  in  the  neceflary  ab fence  of 
others,  it  was  frequently." 

With  her  relatione,  (he  conflantly  fhared  in  all  their 
yyys  and  forrows.  A  more  fympathetic  fpirit  is  rare- 
ly found.  She  never  ceafed  to  pray  for  them  as  parts 
of  herfelf.  She  mourned  for  their  fms  and  afflldions. 
She  rejoiced  in  the  piety  of  fome,  and  longed  for  the 
converfion  of  others.  When  at  a  diftance  from  her 
relatives,  Ihe  wrote  them  letters  of  fuch  pertinence, 
pathos  and  pungency,  as  rendered  them  at  e;nce  pleaf- 
ing  and  profitable,  VVhen  prefent  with  them,  fhe  was 
ever  feeling  the  pulfe  of  their  fouls,  gently  infmuat- 
ing  fomething  important  into  their  minds,  perfuading, 
direding  and  Vv'arning,  as  feemed  necefTary. 

Sije  had  a  very  peculiar  love  for  the  miniders  of 
Chrid.  She  coveted  their  company  that  ihe  might 
improve  by  it,  and  v/as  greatly  pieafed  to  have  them 
at  her  houfe  and  table.  She  inquired  of  them  in  her 
diiliculties,  and  carefully  obferved  their  dire£lions. — 
She  honored  the  aged,  the  learned  and  grave  with  a 
double  honor,  v/as  often  grieved  for  the  infirmities  of 
others,  but  defpifed  none  for  their  weaknefs,  if  ilie 
judged  tliem  faithful  to  God  and  his  intereft.  A  re- 
mark in  her  diary  fhev/s  that  it  was  ordinariiy  her 
cuftom  to  pray  for  the  minifler  whom  fhe  was  about 
to  hear.  *'  I  have  heard  a  t'ermonj^'fays  (he,  *■'■  to  day  ; 
but  I  forgot  to  pray  for  the  rainifler,  and  I  fped  ac- 
cordingly."— May  not  many  who  read  this,  fufpecl 
the  fame  omiiiion  to  be  the  caufe  why  they  have  pro- 
fii-;d  no  more  by  the  Icf  mous  ihev  have  heard  ? 

The 


304'  '     Memoirs  op 

The  tabernacles  of  God  were  amiable  in  her  efteem;,' 
for  fhc  had  often  feen  them  filled  with  his  glory.  The 
public  ordinances  ihe  conftantly  attended,  if  Aot  de- 
barred by  infuperable  difficulties  ;  and  always  made 
it  a  point  to  be  prefent  at  the  beginning  of  them.-— 
Remarking  on  the  rerniffnefs  of  many,  fhe  would  fay 
that  furely  they  did  not  feel  her  wants,  or  they  could 
not  live  in  fuch  neglects.  No  preaching  was  fo  ac- 
ceptable to  her  as  that  which  alarmed  the  confcience, 
fearched  the  heart,  and  came  clofeft  to  her  in  things  in 
which  fne  mod  fufpeded  herfelf. 

She  greatly  diiliked  a  felfiih,  narrow  fpirit,  and  ex- 
hibited, on  all  occafions,  a  generous,  Chriflian  con- 
cern for  the  public.  She  had  many  m.elancholy  thoughts 
Gn  account  of  the  impiety,  profanenefs  and  immoral- 
ity of  a  great  part  of 'the  nation  ;  and  the  indiiference, 
the  formality,  the  vifible  declenfions  and  apoltafies 
found  am^rng  the  rell.  Many  private  days  Ihe  de- 
voted to  fafting  and  prayer,  either  on  account  of  the 
diilrefTes  of  foreign  churches,  or  the  dangers  of 
thofe  at  home.-  Slie  always  blelTed  God  if  public 
fails  were  appointed  by  authority,  and  con  fide  red  them 
as  prefages  cl  good  to  the  church  and  nation.  She 
bore  her  part  in  them  with  greatfervcr,  after  folemn-- 
ly  preparing  for  them  on  the  preceding  day.  Her 
refearches  into  her  heart  and  life  onthefe  days,  were 
deep,  ftria  and  impartial  ;  her  confefTions  particular 
and  full;  her  forrows  lively  _;  her  rcfolutions  for  fu- 
ture conduct:  folemn,  hut  mingled  with  a  fpecial  de- 
pendence on  the  grace  of  God  to  render  them  effe6luaL 
She  had  a  companionate  concern  for  the  Tick  and 
affiicled.  Though  in  feme  cafes  it  was  very  olfenfive 
and  dangerous,  Ihe  yet  took  pleafure  in  vifiting  the 
fick,  as  Tt  gave  her  opportunity  to  inquire  into  the 
Ibte  of  their  fouls,  and  impro%-e  their  alarm  to  the 
purpoie  of  imprefiing  them  with  the  importance  of 
religion.  Their  caies,  v/hatever  they  might  be,  (he 
reread  before  the  Lord  in  fecret.     Though  her  ilcili 


Mrs.  ElizabetitK  BuRr. 


305:- 


lii  meilicine  was  confiderable,  yet  hex  diftrufl;  of  her- 
felf  would  not  permit  her  to  prefcribe,  11  nlefs  com- 
pelled by  the  poverty  of  the  patients,  or  their  great 
importunity.  Inftaiices  of  her  fuccefs  were  how- 
ever numerous  :  and  often  did  Ihe  acknowledge  with 
great  thankfulnefs,  the  goodnefs  of  God  in  owning  fo. 
weak  an  inilrument  for  the  prefervation  of  human 
life. 

Flattery,  of  others,  or  herfelf,  fhe  abhorred.     She- 
thought   that  as    evil  fpeaking   moved  men   to  fin,  fo. 
evil  i'ilence  left  them  in  it.   It  was  not  from  officiouf- 
nefs,  nor  to  give   pain,  nor  that   Ihe  thought    herfelf. 
iingularly  capable  of  doing  it,  that  (he  reproved  any  ;. 
but  becaufe  llie   apprehended   the  general    negled  of. 
1-his  duty  very  difnonorable  to  God  and  religion.     She 
judged  herfelf  bound,  as  well  as  ethers,  not  to   hate  a, 
brother,  and  let  fin  lie  upon    him  nnreproved.      She. 
confidered  this  faithfulnefs  as  a.  neceiTary  expreflionof. 
Chriftian  love  to  others  ;  and  therefore,  having  beg- 
ged of  God  to  guide  her  tongue,  to  move  their  hearts,, 
and  retrain  their  paflions,   me   tenderly,  but    plainly 
told  them  of  their  faults,    and  pleaded    with  them  to, 
amend.       Younger  perfons,  and  inferiors,    were   re- 
proved, if  the  cafe  required  it,  with  a  degree  of  pun- 
gency \  but  others,  with  much  modefty,  m.eeknefs  and. 
moderation.       If  llie  ever    took    fuch  a    liberty  with, 
miniffers,  her  addrelTes  were  prefaced  with  the  Apof- 
tle's  rvords  :   Rebuke  not  an  elder ,  but  intreat  him  as  a 
father  ;  and  the  younger  men  as  brethren. 

Her  faithfulnefs    in  the fe  things    was,. in  many  in- 
flances,  happily   fuccefs ful ;  and  fome  have    thanked, 
and  honored  her  on  the  account  as  long  as  (lie  lived. . 
Nor  was  fhe    more  ready  to  give  than  to    receive  re- 
proof.    She  confidered  thofe  her  trneft   friends,  wlio. 
were  raoft  unreferved  in  this  point.     If  in  any  thing 
fhe  found  herfelf  blame-worthy,  ine  Ingenuoully  con- 
feffed  it,  and  manifefted   her.  refolutions  of  future, 
caution. 

The. 


to6-  Memoirs  G'P 

The  fabbath  was  edeemed  by  her  a  delight  aiiif 
lionorable.  She  was  iineafy  it  worldly  bufinefs  were 
riot  finifhed  in  fuch  feafoa  that  it  might  be  remem- 
bered before  it  came.  She  rofe  earlier  than  ufiial  on 
that  day,  endeavoring  to  awake  with  God,  and  to  pof- 
fefs  her  mind  at  firfl  with  fuch  thoughts  as  might  pre- 
pare her  for  the  work  which  was  to  follow.  Her 
whole  family  accompanied  her  to  the  hoiife  of  God. 
When  public  ordinances  were  over,  Ibe  withdrew  for 
meditation  :  after  wlrich  (he  examined  her  fervants, 
inculcated  upon  them  what  they  had  heard,  attended- 
the  devotions  of  her  clofet  and  family,  and  palled  the 
remainder  of  the  evening  in  fpiritual  and  edifying 
dircourfe. 

In  no  ordinance  was  (lie  more  pleafed  than  that  of 
flnging  ;  having  a  natural  tade  for  mufic,  and  con- 
fiderable  ikill  in  it.  Yet  a  harmony  of  voices  could 
not  fatisfy  her,  unlefs  file  found  her  heart  in  tune  with 
v/hat  was  fung.  Hence  a  remark  in  her  diary,  at 
oncQ  fprighily  and  ferious.  In  fuch  a  place,  **  I  was 
fo  charmed  with  the  novelty  and  fweetnefs  of  the  tune, 
that  I  bad  I'^ung  feveral  lines,  before  my  heart  vt'as 
concerned  in  what  I- \vas  doing." 

Her  regard  to  the  Sacrament  of  the  Lord's  Slipper 
was  peculiar,  and  her  preparation  for  it  very  ferious 
and  foleinn.  She  carefully  examined  her  faith,  love, 
repentance,  &c.  and  was  equally  lolicitous  in  fearch- 
ing  her  heart  and  life  for  her  fms,  thiit  fhe  might  con- 
fefs  and  bewail  them  before  God.  She  read  the  com- 
mandments, with  an  expofition,  that  flie  might  the 
better  knov/  the  duties  required,  and  the  fms  forbid- 
den in  each,  with  their  feveral  aggravations.  She 
then  perufed  her  diary,  and  reaecled  particularly  on 
the  fms  Cnt  had  been-guilty  of  fmce  the  laft  Sacra- 
ment,  that  fhe  might  pray  and  guard  againfl:  them. 

After  all  her  preparations,  fhe  call  herfelf  on  the 
merits  and  mercy  of  the  Lord  Jefus  for  acceptance- 
and  fuGC^fo.      In  his  itrens^th  Ihe  was  (Irong  ;  and 

went 


Mrs.  Elizabeth  Bury.  307 

Vv'ent  forth  with  longing  expe6iations  of  much  grace 
and  confolation  in  that  banquet  ot  love  :  nor  was  Ihe 
often  difappointed. 

She  attended  the  ordinance  with  much  humility, 
reverence  and  godly  fear.  Her  faith  fixed  on  Chrirt, 
to  receive,  to  appropriatejiim,  and  to  live  upon  his 
lulnefs.  Her  iove  was  engaged  with  great  inttnTenefs 
and  ardor  upon  Gv,d  the  Father  and  the  Son,  for  the 
infinite  kindnefs  and  grace  manifeifed  in  the  redemp- 
tion of  man,  and  t1ie  blcdings  of  an  evcrlafiing  cove- 
nant. (^*Lord,"  fhe  writes  in  her  diary,  "  if  I  love 
not  thee,  I  love  nothing.  I  love  not  my  friends  :  I 
love  not  myfelf.  I  love  not  any  thing  in  heaven  or  on 
earth,  if  I  love  not  thee.")  Her  heart,  in  this  holy 
ordinance,  was  alfo  melted  for  fin,  while  ihe  looked 
on  the  Savior  .whom  flie  had  crucified  ;  and  her  refo- 
lutions  againft  it  were  lirengthened. 

After  Sacrament,  flie  conib.ntly  withdrew  to  her 
clofet,  to  blefs  God  on  her  knees  for  what  fhe  had 
been  permitted  to  do,  and  for  what  fhe  had  received  ; 
and  to  intreat  pardon  for  her  failings,  the  continuance 
of  prefent  imprclhons,  and  grace  to  be  faithful  to  the 
end. 

She  gave  berfelf  unto  prayer.  In  the  fcriptute  fenfe, 
{h.t  prayed  aJu ays.  She  faid  not  unfrequently,  that 
llic  would  not  be  hired  to  forego  Iwer  clofet  for  a  thou- 
fand  worlds.  She  never  enjoyed  fuch  hours  of  pleaf- 
iire,  fuch  intimacy  of  communion  with  God  elfewhere, 
as  Ihe  experienced  there.  She  wondered  how  any 
could  live  prayerlefs,  and  deprive  themfelves  of  one 
of  the  greatelt  privileges  ever  indulged  the  children  of 
men. 

Her  gift  in  jprayer  was  extraordinary,  as  many  have 
obfervcd,  when  the  care  of  the  family  devolved  on 
her,  and  as  her  hufband  obferved,  when  on  fome  pe- 
culiar occafions,  they  have  prayed  together  in  fecret. 
*  He  has  been  liruck,'  he  declares,  *v»'ith  wonder,  at 
the  freedom  and  propriety    of  her   language,   at  the 

warmth 


^oS  Memoirs  of 

warmth  and  vigor  of  her  affe^lions,  at  her  humble 
confidence  in  God,  and  (trong  expe6lations  of  bielT^ 
ings  from  him,  when  {he  poured  cut  her  foul  iu  that 
'duty.' 

She  never  determined  a  doubtful  cafe  of  impottance 
refpecling  herfelf,  hel-  family  or  her  friends,  till  ilie 
had  afked  counfel  of  God  :  and  then,  whatever  fhe  re- 
folvcd  in  her  clofet,  iTle  fcrupulouily  adhered  to  after- 
•vi'ard. 

Many  merciful  returns  of  prayer  are  recorded  in 
her  diary.  Sometimes  God  anPvvered  her  while  on 
her  knees,  either  in  the  recovery  of  the  fick,  whofe 
lives  were  defpairedof;  or  in  eafe  to  the  pained  from 
their  moft  diftrefling  agonies  ;  or  in  comfort  to  thfe 
deje(5led,when  under  the  gloomiefl:  apprehenfion§j  or 
in  extinguifhing  the  violence  of  flames,  wheh'.the 
towns  where  fhe  lived  were  threatened  to  be  laid  in 
adies.^  In  the  laft  cafe,  (lie  always  retired  on  the  firil 
alarm,  *  being  incapable,'  as  flie  ufed  to  fay,  *=  <jf  giv- 
ing any  other  afnitance  in  that  calamity,  than  by  pray- 
er."— At  other  times,  iht  remarks,  in  her  diary,  how 
long  (he  waited  for  God's  anfwers.  *  At  fuch  atime,* 
fhe  notes,  *I  prayed,  and  at  fuch  a  time,  God  gra- 
cioufly  heard  my  prayer;'  and  concludes,  'Surely this 
v/as  mercy  worth  praying  and  w/aiting  for.'  She  of- 
ten remarked  the  feafonablenefs  of  divine  iricrcies, 
and  how  much  better  they  wei*e  in  Gcd's  time  of  giv- 
ing, than  they  would  have  been  at  the  firfl:  time  oHier 
nfking  them.  Nor  was  it  tinfrequent  for  her  thank- 
fully to  acknowledge  the  wiTdom  and  goodnefs  of 
God,  in  denying  thofe  requefts  whiclx  fte  alter  ward 
found  to  have  been  inadvertent  and  iiiy)roper. 

As  to  her  trials  and  temptations,  (he  acknowledges 
with  gratitude  to  God  that  *  fhe  had  either  prefent  de- 
liverances or  grace  fufhcient  to  refift,  and  pov/er  at 
iafl  to  overcoiTje.' 

The  Motto  in  her  clofet  for  many  years,    was,  in 
Hdreiv  charadlers,  Thou  Lord Jepjl  me.     She  hereby- 
intimated 


Mrs.  Elizabeth  Bury.  309 

'sntimated  her  awful  adoration  of  tlie  omr/ifclcnce  of 
Jehovah,  that  the  eye  of  her  faith  Ihonld  be  always  up- 
on him,  and  that  fhe  v/ifhcd  and  defigncd  ever  to  a6t 
under  the  influence  of  the  perfiiafion  that  Mc  v.'as 
prefent,  whether  in  reading,  prayer,  meditation,  felf- 
inqniry,or  in  recording  the  folemn  tranfaMions  which 
paifed  between  him  and  her  foid  in  her  clofct.  She 
had  this  Motto  always  before  her,  that  as  often  as  fhe 
entered  her  clofet,  and  while  Hie  continued  there,  and 
in  every  duly  (he  attempted,  it  might  be  a  memorial 
tb  her,  that  every  fm  and  folly,  every  inftance  of  her 
departiire  from  God,  was  perfedlly  known  to  him  ; 
that  every  penitent  confefllon,  tear  and  groan  were  in 
his  fight  and  hearing,  and  tliat  every  prayer,  purpofc, 
vow,  every  folemn  obligation  marie  ar  renewed  in  her 
clofet,  was  facrcd  and  awful,  as  being  under  the  eye 
and  immediate  notice  of  an  all-feeing  and  heart- 
fearching  God.  This  Motto  (lie  often  found  happi- 
ly inifrumental  to  refirain  her  from  fin,  to  excite  her 
to  duty,  to  difpofe  her  for  comfcriable  ccmmunicn 
with  God,  and  preferve  her  from>trifling  in  the  place 
of  her  retirement. 

The  great  work  of  this  pious  v/oman's  life,  was 
preparation  for  death.  Shebeganthis  important  work 
early,  fhe  purfucd  it  daily,  and  with  great  fuccefs. 
She  often  reviewed  the  feveral  flages  of  her  life,  and 
penitently  bewailed  the  fins  of  her  childhood  and 
youth,  as  well  as  of  her  fucceeding  years.  Nor  could 
3iie  reft  till  fhe  found  peace  and  pardon  fpoken  to  litr 
foul. 

It  was  about  her  twentieth  year,  that  flie  was  fav- 
ored with  the  firft  alTurance  of  the  love  of  G^kI,  and 
of  her  title  t©  eternal  life.  For  fifty-fix  years  after- 
ward, fhe  lived  in  comfortable  communion  with  God, 
and  the  joyful  expeclation  of  the  promifed  inherit- 
ance. She  caretully  laid  her  foundation  in  God's 
covenant  with  Chrift,  and  with  finners  in  him,  and 
her  own  cordial  confent  to  that  covenant,  and  then 
c  c  .  built 


3^®  Memoirs  of 

built  upon  thepromifes  of  God,  and  the  righteoufnef^, 
merits  and  mediation  of  the  Lord  Jefus  Chrift  She 
would  often  fay  that  <  though  it  fhould  forTiCtimes 
rain  in  at  the  roof,  fhe  muft  not  therefore  pluck  up 
the  foundation,  or  fufpecl  her  fafety  from  every  fhock 
or  failure  in  the  courfe  of  her  life  and  adions.' 

She  was  conLiantly  coir.plaining  of  a  corrupt  na- 
ture, ^and  often  of  an  evil  frame  of  heart,  and  wander- 
ings from  God  in  feafons  of  duty  ;  but  ftill  Die  an- 
cliored  her  foul  on  the  Redemption  of  Chrift,  and 
I'ept  her  hold  of  the  covenant  of  God  in  him,  and  thus 
her  hope  was  ordixiarily  fteadfaft,  even  to  the  end. 

She  was  often  taken  into  God's  banqueilng-hcufe, 
where  flie  found  the  banner  of  his  love  difplayed  over 
iier.  Special  remarks  are  to  be  met  with  in  her  dia- 
jy,  upon  fome  days,  and  fome  hours,  as  affording  her 
greater  delight  than  all  the  refi.— **  O  joyful  morning, 
-^r.ever  to  be  forgotten  !— Blelled  day  of  God,  a  day  of 
heaven  .to  my  foul  ! — Tlvis  day  in  God's  courts  was 
better  than  a  thoufand.— O  how  the  face  of  the  dear 
Jledeemer  fhone  on  his  unworthy  duft  in  that  ordi- 
nance!— O  the  fulnefs  of  joy,  and  ravifliing  confola- 
tion  of  the  Spirit  of  God,  this  morning  in  my  clofet  ! 
; — Was  ever  fuch  grace  as  this  ?  What  ihail  I  render 
to  the  Lord  ?'■' 

She  lived  long  at  the  gate  of  heaven,  and  therefore 
it  is  no  v/onder  that  fhe  fo  earneftly  defired  to  enter 
into  the  beatific- region  itfelf.  Often  would  file  fay, 
'*  The  bleffed  hour  v/ill  come  ! — Kow  gladly  would  I 
enter  into  the  hea-renly  Courts  !—VvMien  ih'all  I  fee 
God  r — O  hov/  I  long  to  get  out  of  the  tents  of  Ke- 
dar,  and  be  at  reft  !  —  Come  Lord  Jefus  !  come  quick- 
ly ! — I  love  my  relations  on  earth,  yes,  I  love  them 
dearly  ;  but  I  cannot  but  love  my  God  and  Savior, 
nnd  love  them  better. — O  for  that  life  of  purity,  and 
iovc,  and  joy,  where  every  thing  will  be  as  I  would 
have  it  !" 

For 


Mrs.  Elizabeth  Bltrv.  31^ 

For  feveral  of  the  lad  years  of  her  life,  Hie  found 
herfelf  in  a  declining  (late.  Daring  iliis  period,  l>.ci 
vnight  be  truly  faid  10  be  wailing  for  her  dirn:iifi!on. 
Her  vigor  of  mind,  clearnefo  of  thought,  and  ihcngtii 
of  memory,  continued  to  the  lad,  and  f!ie  often  cx- 
prefled  her  ardent  defircs  to  enter  into  her  eternal  relK 

On  the  third  of  May,  172c,  as  Hie  entered  with 
Mr.  Bury,  into  a  friend's  houCe,  where  ^they  were  to 
have  dined,  (he  was  fuddenly  feized  with  an  exquifitc 
pain  in  one  of  her  ears,  which  prefently  caufed  Inch  :i 
deafnefs  as  to  render  her  unconverfablc.  Upon  this, 
ihe  dell  red  to  withdraw,  and  went  home.  Her  deaf- 
nefs continuing,  a  pleuritic  fever  foon  followed,  and 
after- that  a  lethargy,  which  in  part  deprived  her 
friends  of  That  heavenly  difcoiirfe  they  promifed  them- 
felves  they  fliould  have  heard  from  her,  upon  her 
death- bed. 

In  former  illneffes,  when  fne  herfelf, and  every  one 
elfe,  thought  her  under  the  fentence  of  death,  fhe  was' 
always  far  above  the  fear  of  it,  though  naturally  of  a 
very  timorous  fpirit.  She  even  triumphed  over  it» 
Tinging,  **  O  death  !  where  is  thy  (ting  ?  O  grave  • 
where  is  thy  vi6lory  ?  Thanks  be  to  God  Who  givetli 
me  the  vi6lory,  through  our  Lord  JefusChrid. —  I  am 
fighting,-'  faid  fhe,  **  under  the  great  Captain  of  my 
falvation,  and  can  bid  defiance  to  all  the  powers  of 
hell,  and  boldly  encounter  Satan  in  his  own  kingdom. 
—  I  am  now  in  the  dark  valley,  but  I-  fee  light  at  tlie 
end  of  it,  and  the  gate  of  heaven  ftands  open.-  O  let 
.me  go  into  endlefs  love,-  and  live  that  fmlefs  life  ! — 
When,  Lord,  (liall  I  come  to  thee  ?'  Almoft  gone,  and 
yet  r cannot  go.— O  iny  dear  friends,  v/hy  fo  cruel  ? 
What  fhould  I  live  any'longcr  for  ?  My  work  isdonc, 
and  w4iy  woidd  yon  not  have  me  go  to  reft  ?  Give  me- 
up,  I  entreat  you,  to  God,  and  do  it  cheerfully.  My 
conftant  prayer  has  been,  to  be  always  waiting,  and 
hoping  ;  and  this  is  my  prefent'frame. — It  is  an  abun- 
d-int  anfwer  to  all  your  prayers  for  me,  that  I  have 

peace, 


212  Memoirs  o? 

«^ 

].>eace,  and  hope,  and  comfort,  v/ithoutany  doubt,  or 
tear,  or  lufpicious  thought  of  my  falvailon.  I  am 
furcl  have  not  Mattered  my  felf  in  the  trial  of  my  ftate, 
j)or  been  fiiperficial  in  it  ;  and  I  am  fully  perfuaded 
that  God  will  not  deceive  me.  —  I  am  my  Beloved's, 
and  my  Beloved  is  mine.  It  is  but  one  itruggle ;  and 
better  now,  if  God  fees  fit,  or  elfe  I  have  all  this  to 
do  again. — Fath.er  i  into  thine  hands  let  me  commend 
my  fpirit  !" — With  pleafure  would  (lie  feel  her  faul- 
tering  pulfc,and  fay,  "^  When  wilt  thou  beat  thy  laft  ? 
It  is  not  death  yet  ;  but,  blelled  be  God,  it  is  pretty 
near  it.  1  hope  I  ihali  not  return  to  labor,  and  for- 
rovv,  and  fm  again.  O  that  i  had  the  wings  of  a  dove  ;, 
then  would  I  fly  away,  and  be  at  reft."  Yet  file 
would  often  add,  **  We  have  need  of  patience,  that 
after  we  have  done  the  will  of  God,  we  may  inherit 
tha  promifes." 

In  her  lail  illnefs,  fhe  had  the  fame  ileadfafl:  faith, 
and  flrongconfolation  llie  had  experienced  before,  but 
found  more  difficulty  in  her  palfage  out  of  life,  than 
iiad  been  expected.  From  her  lamentable  groans  for 
fomc  days  together,  it  was  concluded  that  her  pains 
muir  be  exquiute.  Yet  when  Ihe  was  an.<.ed  concern- 
ing lierlelf,  ilie  generally  anfv;ered,  *'  I  feel  but  little 
p:tIn,onlv  am  rcltlefs."  Her  cold  and  excefTive  fweats 
continued  for  many  hours  together. 

Though  the  nature  of  her  dlforder  prevented  her 
from  fpeaking  much,  yet  what  (he  did  i'peak  was  al- 
ways-rational,  as  well  as  fplritual.  Her  mind  was 
not  only  cahn  and  compofed,  but  very  cheerfid,  wl-Ten- 
ever  ihc  awoke.  **  O  my  God,"  laid  ihe,  **  I  M^ait 
for  thy  falvation. — This  day  I  hope  to  be  withChrlft 
in  paradife. — The  promlfesof  God  are  all  yea  and 
amen  in  Chriif  Jefus  ;  and  here  my  faith  lays  hold, 
and  here  it  keeps  its  hold." 

On  the  eleventh  of  May,  fhe  entreated  her  friends 
■with  great  earnellnefs,  to  detain  her  no  longer  by 
t^eir  prayers^  but  r.efign  up  her  foul  to  Gcd  j  **  vvhichj' '; 

fa  vs. 


Mrs.  Elizabeth  Blrv.  ->(> 

fays  Mr.  Bury,  **  we  did  with  as  much  carneHnefs  as 
ever  we  had  alkcd  her  life  before.  Such  are  God's 
ways  to  wean  us  from  our  deareft  enjoyments  in  this 
world."  Ab  Hit  ten  o'clock  that  night,  the  prifoner 
was  releafed  from  all  her  bonds,  and  obtained  a  i^lo- 
rious  freedom.  Her  heaven-born  foul  took  wing  for 
the  realms  of  light,  and  v/as  welcomed  to  the  ]ny  cf 
her  Lord. 

She  had  often  made  it  her  prayer  to  God,  ihaf  /Ije 
vught  come  of'  honorably  in  her  laj}  encounter,  that"  To 
neither  religion  might  be  difcr'ediied,  nor  her  iriejids 
difcouraged,  by  any  thing  which-  fhould  be  cbferved 
in  her.  And  as  God  had  abundantly  anfwered  many 
of  her  prayers  before,  fo  he  very  graciouriy  granted 
this  requefl  \  tor  fuch  were  the  lively  exercifcs  of  her 
faiih  and  love,  that  they  entirely  triumphed  over  al). 
her  fearsj  and  carried  her  with  tx  full  jail  \\\\o  the  ha- 
ven of  glory,-  To  the  great  comfort  of  her  furvivin<'; 
friends,  (he  left  the  world  at  laft  without  cither  figk 
or  groan,  and  with  a  plcafanter  finile  thi.n  was  cvcr 
obferved  in  her  countenance  before. 

Mr.  Bury>  herhufoand,  who  d  rev/  ..  ...  accor.nt 
of  her  life,  has  made  a  large  colle<5Lio!)  of  cxcelleiu 
pa4Tages  from  her  diary.  We  mull  content  ourfeivcs 
with  the  following  extracts  tr;^m  what  he  Kas  rnore 
dirFufely  communicated  ;  conBiienr  that  they  will 
prove    highly  pleaiing  and  edifying  to  every  fciious 


1690,  Sept.  27.  When  I  was  nine  or  ten  year?  old, 
I  tirll  began  the  work  of  felf-examination,  and  beg- 
ged the  all-fcarchtng  God  to  try,  and  difcover  me  to 
myfelf  ;  and  I  think  I  may  date  my  converfion  about 
tiiat  time.  • 

I  have  kept  an  account  of  my  trials  of  myfclf  finc^ 
1670  ;  and  though  my  undutiful,  ungratefi;!  returns 
have  niied  each  examination  v.'ith  juft  and  bitter  com- 
C  c  3  plaints. 


^14  Memoirs  of 

plaints,  yet  upon  twenty  years'  review,  to  the  glory  of 
trse  grace,  I  take  it  the  cafe  has  ftood  thus  with  me. 

My  judgment  has  efteemed  God,  even  his  holinefsj 
the  molt  delirable  good  ;  and  I  would  be  partaker  of 
his  holinefs,  whatever  it  colt  me  ;  and  I  have  general- 
ly been  V'/illing  and  thankful  for  the  fmarteft  difci- 
pline,  in  hope  of  that  deiired  effect  ;  and  I  would  iliil 
be  more  holy,  thoui^h  by  ficknefs,  pain  or  any  other 
af^iclion,  having  aiv^ays  accounted  fin  the  greatelt 
evil,  and  nov/  for  many  years  my  bittereft  afflidlion^ 
though  in  fome  hurries,  I  have  not  i'elt  the  moil  fenfi-. 
ble  mournings  for  it. 

As  I  have  chofen  God  for  my  portion,  fo  I  ftand 
by  my  choice,  and  rejoice  in  it  above  all  the  v/orld  ; 
and,  through  his  grace  affi-fting  me,  I  refolve  never  to 
forfake  him,  though  I  die  for  it,  which  I  tliall  never 
do  without  extraordinary  aids,  having  no  natural  cou- 
rage. I  have  chofen  the  path  of  God's  precepts,  as 
the  means  lo  this  end,  and  have  deliberately,  entirely 
;:*nd  joyfully  given  mvfclf  to  Jefus  Chrift,  the  W'aVj, 
ihe  truth  and  the  life  ;  and  his  love  I  prefer  to  all  the 
work!  i  and  by  many  fweet,  though  too  lliort  experi- 
iences,  I  have  found  his  love  lifting  my  heart  above 
all  eartlily  enjoyments,  and  fometimes  making  it  joy- 
ful amidii  pain  and  trouble,  which  has  hinted  the 
povver  of  his  prevailing  love,  and  made  m^e  hope  it 
^vill  cad  out  fear,  if  he  calls  me  lo  martyrdom. 

My  hope  is  in  God  thro«gh  Chrifl:  ;  and  all  I  have 
1  would  part  vv'ith,. rather  than  his  love,  and  the  inter- 
cfr  I  hope  1  have  in  it. 

My  defires  are  after  him  above  gold,  health,  friends, 
Iionor,  &c.  1  long  to  have  fuller  communion  with 
I'^ather,  Son  and  Holy  Spirit  here,  and  the  uninter- 
rupted communion  of  heaven. 

My  forrovv  and  anger  are  ufually  mod  intenfe  a- 
gainll  fin,  though  too  violent  torrents  of  thcin  have 
been  often  fpciit  on  iny  fuiieringSo 

My 


Mrs.  Elizabeth  Burv.  315 

My  hands,  feet,  head  and  heart  follow  not  as  I 
would.  My  life  is  itained  and  blotted  with  daily  fins, 
yet  God  knows  I  loathe  them.  ^  I  find  daily  defe6ls  in 
my  duties,  yet  I  have  a  rerpe6i:  to  all  God's  com- 
mandments. O  wretched  creature  !  Sin  flill  dwells 
in  me.  I  cannot  do  the  things  I  would,  but  I  would 
upon  any  terms  be  rid  of  fin.  I  fin  daily  ;  but  I  dai- 
ly forrow  for,  and  hate  fin,  and  fly  to  ihQ  fountain  op- 
enedy  which  alone  can  cleanle  me. 

I  forfake  and  renounce  the  Devil's  dominion  ;  and 
as  I  have  received  the  Lord  Jelus  Chrifi,  fo  I  watch, 
and  pray,  and  itrive  to  walk  after  his  will,  and  holy 
example. 

The  world  gets  near  me,  and  about  me,  and  I  am 
too  ready  to  follow  and  ferve  its  pleafures  and  con- 
veniencies  ;  but  it  is  more  folid  joy  to  my  foul  to  fay 
that  *'  Chrid  is  mine,"  than  to  be  able  to  fay,  **  this 
kingdom,  this  v/orld,  yea,  all  that  I  ever  loved  are 
mine." 

My  own  righteoufnefs  I  abhor.  The  beft,  the 
mon  perfect,  the  mod:  lincere  fervice  I  ever  did>  or 
hope  to  do,  gives  me  no  hope  of  acceptance,  but  in 
and  through  Clirift. 

O  Lord  Jehovah,  Father,  Son  and  Holy  Spirit  ! 
thou  art  my  portion  !  Whatever  this  flefii  would  have, 
Lofvl,  let  me  be  thine  at  any  rate  !  Truly  I  am,  and 
would,  and  will  be  thy  fcrvant  by  choice  and  co-ifent, 
whatever  thou  givelT:  m.e,  and  whatever  thou  denielt 
m.e.  O  how  bountifully  has  God  dealt  with  me,  while 
he  has  loved  me  from  death  to  life  \ 

Lord  Jefus!  thou  art  my  way  to  the  Father  ;  my 
only  Mediator.  I  have  accepted  thee  to  teach  and 
rule,  as  well  as  fave,  my  guilty  foul.  I  cry  as  hud 
for  purifying,  as  for  pacifying  grace.  I  am  willing 
to  be  kept  from  my  iniquity.  I  except  no  darling  fin 
from  thins  iron  rod.  I  ;iflv  no  mercy  for  it,  nor  would 
J  ihevv  it  aiiy. 

1  approve 


^nG 


Memoirs  o? 


I  approve  and  fubfcribe.to  all  thy  precepts,  as  holy.^' 
ju(t  and  good  ;    as  beit  for  me  at  all  times,  and  in  alT" 
conditions.      Let    my    heart   be  fearched,   and  I  will' 
love  the  word  that  fearches  it.     I  account  thy  law  my 
liberty.      Thou  haft  drawn,  and  I  have  run.      Thou 
haft  made  thy  word  miy  love,  delight  and  ftudy,  and  it' 
is  the  ftacere  bent  of  my  life  to  keep  it.      O    that  I 
might  keep  it  to  the  end  ' 


lO  over- 

-  oivi  the 


OSf*  30.     Strength  to  combat,  rathe-^  '■■'^'• 
come  :  yet  feme  viclory,  and  more  ex; 
all-conquering  Spirit  of  God,  freely  proiiiH^:;. 

1691,  Sfpf.  27.  Full  of  pain  anti  pleafure.  Lcrdf 
what  thou  wilt :  with  fuch  ainftance,  it  fhal!  be  no' 
burden  to  me.  Sweet  was  the  word,  commending 
Ghrift  as  my  foul's  Phyfician,  and  faith  as  the  inftni-' 
mcnt  of  application  :  my  heart  anfwering  the  marks' 
of  the  healed  ;  and  yet  not  fuch  lively  joy  as  in  the 
morning. 

1692,  'j  .  Lor:l  !  bow  imfpeakably  fwee':' 
has  ^iiis  moruin^,  c  arldreis  been  !  Thy  prefence  has 
been  better  than  life  in  itsutmoft  perfc^dion.  And  if' 
ever  i  choofe  the  beft  of  fenfual  pleafnres  before,  or 
with  the  abatement  of  ought  I  have  tafted  this  morn-* 
ing,  let  thefe  lines  witnefs  againft,and  recall  my  back- 
Hiding  fouk  O  that  poor  deceived  worldlings  mighL- 
tafte  of  thy  prOviuons  !  and  that  thy  dtar  diftreifed- 
childr;jn  might  feed  joyfully  thereon  !  Loid,  fupport' 
in  the  way  thofe  whom  thy  grace  lias  made  heirs  and" 
expectants  ot  future  glofy. 

Fe5.  19.  Aihamed  and  fad,  in  the  confidcration  of' 
the  Vv'onderful  ftnicVr;reof  m.y  houfe  of  clay,  inhabited 
by  an  immortal  fpirit,  capable  of  itiieCtion,  &c.  yet' 
both  fo  long  utterly  ufelets  to  my  Creator's  glory  ;  (till 
fo  little  anfwering  the  noble  intentions  to  which  body 
and  foul  were  moft  wifely  and  righteoully  dire(!:/ied :— «*^ 
yet  adoring  the  divine  boimty^  pity  and  patience,  that 
pardon,  adopt  and  fandiiy  fuch  aa  Unworthy  creature. 

I  reu^ned 


Mrs.  Elizabeth  Bury,  317 

2  reilgned  body  and  foul  entirely  to  him  who  made 
them,  begging  a  vviiling,  happy  dilTolution. 

March  20.  Faint,  yet  purfuing  ;  dull,  yet  adoring;, 
impure,  yet  loathing  ;  wandering,  yet  returning  ;  go- 
ing to  the  fountain  opened,  to  be  purified  from  all  (in,. 

0  that  tills  day  may  begin  my  eternal  Hallelujah  ! 
JpT-'d  7.   Unftabie  as  water,  my  foul  cannot  excels 

Where  are  the  fwect  influences  lately  tailed  •  O  im- 
mutable, omnipotent   Father  of  fpirits  !   in  thee  only 

1  live,  move  and  am  :  thy  gifts  and  callings  are  with- 
out repentance  :  thou  canil  raife  the  dead  :  let  my 
foul  revive.  * 

yiily  19.  All  the  world  never  gave  me  fuch  fatisfy- 
ing  delight,  as  this  morning's  communion  with  God. 
And  whence  is  this  to  me,  that  my  Lord  will  thus 
viiit,  revive  and  cherilh  his  poor,  dull,  languilhing, 
unvv^orthy  child  1  O  what  fhall  the  full  allimilating^ 
eternal  vifion  of  my  God  be  ! 

Sept  I.  My  delight  foon  abated.  It  is ^^/r// weath- 
er, vvith  me.  I  am  flill  on  a  iioating  iiland.  Lord  ! 
when  fliall  I  dv/ell  on  the  continent  ? 

Dec,  14.  Glorious  fights  of  future  glory  fweeten 
the  world's  frowns,  and -death's  terrors.  And  now, 
Lord  !  let  me  fee  man  no  more  on  earth,  if  I  may  fee 
the  Iledeemer  of  loft  man  in  glory.  O  the  triumphs 
of  ;hy  love  !  And  v/hat  can  vile  dufi:  fay  more  ?  Is 
this  the  manner  of  men,  O  Lord  ?  Who  is  it,  that 
finds  his  enemy,  and  kls  him  go  r  Bu4  hov/  long,  and 
hov/  often  hall  thou  found  me  in  enmity,  and  refcued 
me  from  my  felf-ruining  lufts  !  and  now  ilione  into 
iny  ungrateful  foul,,  as  if  I  had  ntver  grieved  thy 
Spirit  !  Oh  !  Eeep  for  ever  the  im-prefTions  cf  thy  myf- 
terious  love  on  my  imtltable  fpirit. 

1693,  Feb,  16,-  Continual  violent  pains  render  me 
incapable  of  reading,  prayer  or  meditation;  yet  I  am 
willing  to  undergo  any  difcipline  for  the  removal  of 
my  I'pifitual  maladies.  Strike,  Lord,  fo  thou  ftili 
liesleft.     Wound^  for  my  cure,  and  fpare  not. 


^tg  Memoirs  o? 

May  6.  Refle(?ting  on  my  finful  foul  frommy  child^ 
hood  to  this  day,  I  find  my  heart  humbled  with  amaz- 
ing forrovv  for  that  which  r  ftill  remember,  and  of 
which  I  flill  feel  the  remainders*.  I  am  alloniihed  at 
the  patience  of  God,  in  whofe  fight  all  my  pafl  fins, 
\vheiher  remembered  or  forgotten  by  me,  are  fiilf 
prefent  ;  and  yet  he  waits  to  be  gracious  to  an  un- 
grateful and  rcbd'ioi^s  c;c:i:vrc.  I  acivnowledgc  i 
defervc  nothing  but  '  .-.  ;  :  i  riy  to  the  mercy  of  GoJ' 
oifered  in  Chrift,  n:  '  'X  he  w^ould  dealvvith  my 

fins  after' his  own  h-i...\.i  o.  t^^m,  and  iliev/  mercy  to' 
me,  a  miferable  finner,  according  to  the  tenor  of  hij* 
gracious  covenant  in  Chrift  Jefus. 

May  7.  Thy  vows,  O  God,  are  upon  me,  and  my' 
refoiutions  are  renewed,  to  be  more  thine  than  ever  ; 
but  the  grace  and  flrength  to  perform  them  are  thine. 
Lord,  give  what  thou  commanded,  pofTefs  what  thou 
liaif  purchafed,  and  perfect  what  thou  haf!:  begun. 

Sei)t.  16.   Indifpofed  body  clogging   my    afcending 
foul  •  rehiring  flefh  flruggling  with  arefigning  will  :^ 
the  Holy  Spirit  affiifing  ;  fome  vidory  :   fweet,  calm; 
joyful  hope,  love,  and  longing  for  the  coming   of  my. 
Lord  Redeemer  ;  my  Life,  Love,  Joy  and  Crown. 

1695,  July  14.  Lord  I  how  fv/eet  are  the  returns 
of  thy  favor,  after  dark  defertionl  What  can  difpleafc' 
my  foul  in  all  this  difcipline,  while  thou  increafelf, 
and  helpefi  me  to  aCl,  my  faith  on  thy  truth,  power" 
and  promife.  Lord  1  while  thou  haft  taught  me  by 
thy  Word,  and  helped  me  by  thy  Spirit,  to  believe, 
how  eafy  are  the  difliculiies !  how  light  the  afRi(Stions  ! 
i^ow  reafonable  the  dark  difpenfations  !  how  true  thy 
retributions  !  how  clear  the  myfteries  of  the  gofpcl  ! 
]^.o->v  hopeful  death  itfelf  i  and  how  certain  the  pro^- 
mifcs  that  concern  thy  Church  !  all  which  iiave  {o 
puzzled  and  afflicted  my  foul  of  late. 

iV^f.  I.  ,The  Lord  has  guided,  ^nd  fwcetly  calms' 

:ny  fpirit,  and  gives  fome  victory  over  pafiion,  pride^ 

jnpatience,  reluciance  at  divine  difpofals— with  joy' 

and. 


Mrs.  Elizabeth  Bury.  31^ 

ra-d  thankfulnefs  in  and  for  his  redeeming  love.— 
Adoring  my  heavenly  Father  in  wounding  and  heal- 
ing my^fmtul  foul  and  body,  praying  lor^  thofe  who 
AingratefuJly  treat  me,  and  tor  the  feed  of  his  fevvantF, 

1696,  Jan.  3.  Dulhand  penfive,  under  ungrateful 
treatment  from  creatures,  yet  well  fatisfied  with  my 
heavenly  Father's  love  and  difcipline;  choofing  rather 
a  bitter  v/eaning  from,  than  an  inordinate  love  to  any 
thing  here. 

Jug.  4.  O  how  much  better  than  life,  or  any  thing 
in  life,  is  the  loving  kindnefs  of  God,  fo  fweetly,  io 
evidently,  fo  abundantly  mani fefted  to  my  foul  this 
morning  ?  Lord,  how  free,  how  full,  how  humble 
nnd  ingenuous  my  confcilicns,  when  thy  Holv  Spirit 
indites  them,  and  grants  me  his  alTiHance  !  What  a 
view  of  (in  !  what  melting  fname  and  forrow  !  what 
tears  of  love  !  what  delight  !  what  panting  after  m.ore 
grace  !  what  cahn  and  joyful  acquicfcence  in  once 
dreaded  difcipline  !  what  cheerful,  unreferved  refig- 
nation  !  Lord,  how  long  have  I  ftruggled  in  vain  for 
what  of  thy  free  bounty  thou  haft  given  in  one  hour  ! 
Lord,  keep  it  ever  on  my  heart  \ 

1697,  Jan.  3.  God  taught  me  to  pray,  and  licard 
my  prayer.  He  afliCted  his  mclfcnger  to  draw  the  bow 
with  full  ftrength,  and  to  cry  to  him  to  dire6l  the  ar- 
rows. Lord,  I  loojc,  and  will  wait  for  fomte  of  the 
arrows  from  thv  quiver  litis  day  to  (lick  faft  in  my 
own  foul,  and  the  fouls  of  others.  I  blefs  thy  name 
for  fweet  diredions  to  live  on  another's  life,  to  fatisfy 
by  another's  righteoufne fs,,  and  to  a61:  in  another's 
ftrength.     Lord,  ftre.ngtben  thy  weak  creature  1 

March  20.  1  rnade  a  fearch  into  my  heart,  before 
the  Sacrament,  with  refpecl  to  the  nature  and  eifeds 
£)f  true  faith,  and  find  I  am  glad  of  the  difcovery  even 
of  fuch  truths  as  moft  direclly  ftrike  at  my  ftrongeft 
heart-fms,  and  moft  violent  inclinations.  I  am  as 
glad  of  the  threatenlngs,  that  pov/erfully  work  on  inc 
for  my  reform.ation,  as  of  the  prc??iijes  that  refrefii  m.e. 

J  believe 


»>2o  Memoiks  of 

I  believe  them  all»  and,  fo  far  as  I  can  ciifcern,  wifli 
their  energy  in  purifying,  as  well  as  comforting  m.e. 
I  embrace  the  promifes  with  delight,  and  find, 
through  freq  grace,  a. fpi ritual  tafte  and  relifh  for  the 
food  of  life,  fuch  as  fometlmes  quite  weans  me  from 
the  love  of  the  world,  and  gives  me  great  peace  of  con- 
fcience,  joy  in  the  Holy  Choft,  and  love  to  Chrift's 
fecond  appearing.  I  find  good  hope,  through  grace, 
that  I  live  by  the  faith  of  the  Son  of  God,  who  gave 
himfelf  for  unworthy  me  ;  for  I  delight  in  his  word 
above  my  appointed  food.  It  has  been  in  fome  mea- 
fure  of  an  affimllating  nature.  I  hope  i  have  attaiJi- 
€d  to  fome,  and  I  pray  and  labor  for  more  growth,  in 
tiniverfal,  uniform  obedience  to  God's  commands.  I 
depend  on  the  perfect  righteoufnefs  of  Chrift,  and 
muft  own  that  ircrn  the  beams  of  that  Sun  of^  right- 
eoufnefs, I  have  received  a  gracious  i'ilumination  up- 
on my  foul,  and  a  powerful  inclination  to  all  good — 
a  tender  fympathy,for  the  mof!:  part,  with  the  Church 
of  God,  even  when  my  particular  (late  inclines  me  to 
a  contrary  temper — and  a  free  ufe  of  fpi  ritual  fenfes  ; 
feeing  the  light  of  God  more  perfectly  and  frequently 
than  \nu3l,  hearing  his  word  with  delight,  tailing  his 
mercies  with  comfort,  feeling  and  mourning  under 
the  v/ounds  and  prelTures  of  fm.  I  love  divine  truths, 
not  fo  much  becaufe  they  are  proportionable  to  my 
defires,  but  becaufe  they  are  conformable  to  God.  I 
refolve  in  all  dates  to  rely  on  God's  mercy  and  provi- 
dence." I  wholly  renounce  all  truR  in  myfelf,  or  any 
concurrence  of  my  own,  naturally,  in  any  good.  I 
build  not  my  hopes  or  fears  on  men  ;  nor  make  them, 
nor  myfelf,  the  end  or  rule  of  my  de fires.  I  indulge 
no  known  fin.  I  have  no  known  guile.  I  allow  not 
the  leaft  fin,  nor  appearance  of  evil.  I  hate  the  firfl 
rifings  of  fin  ;  and  bitterly  regret  the  leaft,  the  firft, 
the  moft  unavoidable  thought  that  rebels  againft  the 
divine  law. 


Mrs.  Elizatseth  Bury.  3^,1 

March  28.  Glorious  morning  of  the  dry  of  the  Son 
of  man  !  Lord,  what  is  all  this  world  to  me  ?  Thy 
clarkeft  paths  appear  light  and  pleafant  to  my  foul. 
Thy  will  be  done  with  all  my  heart.  All  thy  ways 
are,  and  have  been  holy,  juft,  good  and  true.  In  very 
faithfulnefs  thou  haft  afflided^in  tendereft  bowels  pit- 
ied, fpared  and  borne  with  thy  peevifh,  ungrateful 
child,  and  yet  fayeft,  thou  art  mine,  and  1  am  thine, 
and  hafl  filled  my  foul  with  joy,  adoration,  love,  pralfe, 
refignation,  acquiefcence,  hope,  truft,  above  what  I 
can  remember  I  ever  enjoyed.  O  that  prefent  expe- 
rience may  ftrengthen  my  faith  in  future  combats. 
Amen. 

1698,  June  22.  A  cheerful  morning  this:  my  heart 
appealing  to  God  that  Chrift  is  my  choice,  religion 
my  bufinefs,  the  holy  Scripture  my  rule,  heaven  my 
defign,  the  faints  my  beloved  companions,  and  the  or- 
dinances my  delight  when  I  m.eet  with  God  in  them. 

1699,  Jan.  I.  With  fhame  and  forrcw  my  foul  re- 
fieds  on  the  fins  of  rny  whole  life,  and  particularly  of 
the  year  pad.  O  Lord  1  days  and  years  have  not 
taught  miC  wifdom  :  but  after  fo  long  experience  of 
the  tendereft  care,  compafTion,  patience,  pardon  and 
provifion,  what  a  monfter  of  ingratitude  do  I  ftill 
continue,  and  this  after  refolutions,  covenant- engage- 
ments, and  hopes  of  better.  Lord,  how  unfruitful, 
dull,  wandering,  flothful  and  fretful  is  my  heart  ! 
And  muft  it  be  ever  thus  r  Is  not  cleanfing,  quicken- 
ing, ftrengthening,  promifed  and  fealed  in  thy  coven- 
ant, as  well  as  dedication  and  refignation  on  my  part  ? 
Lord,  I  gave  my  foul  and  body  to  thee  for  fandifica- 
tion,  as  well  as  juftification  :  I  renew  my  folemii 
covenant  this  day,  and  go  forth  to  the  gofpel  fcaft  for 
all  I  v/ant,  and  thou  haft  provided.  O  give  bread,  not 
ftones,  to  thy  ftarving  child,  though  unworthy  to  be 
called  fo  :  yet,  through  grace,  I  am  thy  fervant,  thy 
child.  Let  thy  bowels  move  toward  nie.  Draw  me 
till  I  follow  hard  after  thee.      Waih  me  in  the  vital 

D  d  ftream 


32Z  -Memoirs  of 

if  ream   from  my   dear   Lord's   fide,  till  I  feel  I   am 
cleanfed,  and  return  with  praife. 

1 70 1,  May  29.  In  a  fliort  review  of  my  life  pafl, 
I  adored  divine  patience,  goodnefs  and  wifdom,  which 
have  been  exercifed  towards  me  from  my  birth  to  this 
day,  in  God's  bringing  me  into  fo  noble  a  being;  fiif- 
taining  fo  polluted  a  wrench,  a  tranfgrelTor  from  the 
/Womb  ;  bearing  fo  long  the  rebellions  and  vanities  of 
my  youth  ;  wifely  chailening  my  proud  fpirit  by  the 
difpleafure  of  fome,  and  by  difappointments  from  oth- 
ers ;  drawing  me  by  his  Word  and  Spirit,  and  driving 
jne  by  affli£lion,  to  prayer,  and  encouraging  my  early 
addreifes  to  him  \  difpollng  me  comfortably  in  the 
world  ;imbittering  over-loved  enjoyments,  to  wean 
me  from  them  ;  bringing  me  into  nearer  commijnion 
with  himfelf  ;  gracioully  directing  by  his  providence 
to  a  fecond  marriage  \  and  giving  me  comfort  in  it, 
■beyond  my  faith  or  prayers. 

1702,  Feb,  7.  Upon  the  beft  fearch  I  can  make,  if 
I'were  now  at  the  awful  bar  of  God'stribunal,  I  muft 
fay,  fo  far  as  I  can  judge  of  my  heart,  it  does  hate  all 
iin,  as  (m :  it  is,  and  loves  to  be  humbled  before  God  : 
it  loves  God  for  every  rebuke  of  its  lulls  :  it  loves  the 
perfon  of  Chrifl;  in  all  his  offices,  and  every  foul  that 
bears  his  image,  though  in  nothing  elfe  lovely  :  it 
would  approve  itfelf  to  God,  when  no  eye  fees  it  :  it 
choofes  the  image  of  Chrift  more  than  all  comforts. 

March  24.  The  good  Spirit  of  God  witnelTcd  with 
my  fpirit,  to  the  marks  of  true  Repentance  ;  in  hating 
fin  as  fin,  forfaking  it,  and  flying  toChrift  for  cleanf- 
•ing  :  forrow  for  fin  has  been  frequently  expreffed  by 
tears,  when  a  fenfe  of  pardoning  mercy  has  melted 
my  heart  :  it  has  been  more  general,  voluntary  and 
lading,  than  for  any  aflliclion.  I  therefore  conclude 
God  has  pardoned  my  Iin,  for  the  glory  of  his  fove- 
jeign  will,  mercy,  riches  of  grace,  goodnefs,  truth 
and'power  ;  and  has  chofen,  redeemed,  and  will  re^ 
ceive  me  lo  glory  hereafter. 

1704^ 


Mrs,  Elizabeth  Bury.  323 

r'704,  March  1,2.  I  have  now  been  for  fixty  years- 
God's  care  and  charge  ;  and  acknowledge  to  the  glo^ 
ry  of  his  infinite'  mercy,  that  never  was  more  un- 
worthy creature  more  indulged,  pitied,  faithfully  and 
wifely  chaftened.  drawn  and  driven  to  God,  my  chief 
Good,  by  mercies,  afTliclions,  ordinances,  providen- 
ces, all  made  fuccefsful  by  the  holy  Spirit's  influence 
upon  my  foul. 

1706,  Ol?.  25,  26.  I  fetcloiely  toexaminemy  ftate, 
and  begged  of  God  to  difcover  whatever  miftake  1- 
might  have  been  under  in  my  form^er  trials,  which  I 
reviewed.  Mr.  Vines  diftinguiflies  the  true  Chrif- 
tian  from  the  hypocrite,  by  the  following  marks  : 

1.  A  true  Chrifiian's  hatred  to  Jin ,  and  his  liking  /# 
Gody  arije  from  an  inn  a  rd  nature  or  principle.  Lord, 
my  confcicnce  docs  not  reproach  me  when  I  fay,  I 
hate  the  whole  fpecles  of  fin,  and  whatever  appears 
finful  to  me.  1  love  the  whole  law  of  God  for  its 
purity,  and  my  foul  pants  daily  for  more  conformity" 
to  it. 

2.  The  inward  man  of  a  Chriflian  is  made  up  of 
Chriji.  Lord,  thou  knowefl:  that  the  little  knowledge 
I  have  had  of  Chrift,  the  little  faith  in  him,  love  to 
him,  and  talles  of  him,  have  made  me  hate  and  mcura 
for  fin  ;  and  1  do  fight  againil:  fm  in  his  ftrcngth.      I 

~  have  felt  the  teachings  of  God,  and  do  love  my  ador- 
able Lord  J.efus,  for  himfeif.  My  repentance  and 
forrow  for  lin  is  moft  pungent,  when  under  the  pow- 
er of  lo\'e.  I  defire  grace  for  fervice,  as  well  as  fci; 
falvation, 

3.  True  grace  cajis  out  fef-hve.  It  comes  from 
Ghrift  and  draws  the  foul  into  union  and  acquain- 
tance with  him.  Lord,  I  Icve  my  foul  and  body, u  hen 
they  love  and  ferve  thee.  I  hate  that  either  Ihould 
difhonor  thee.  I  am  willing  to  deny  myfelf  any 
thing  for  thee  :  yet  I  fear  too  much  of  indulgence  of 
Jfclf,  by  floth  and  love  of  e«fe. 

4.  Tq 


^24  Memoirs  o? 

4.  To  IjVs  find  feck  God  for  hi?tifelf,  is  above  ihs- 
p:wcr  of  all  common  gifts.  O  Lord  thou  haft  enabled 
my  foul  to  love  thee  ior  thy  glorious  excellencies  and 
perfeAions,  as  well  as  thy  redeeming  love,  though 
not  always  fo  diftin6lly  as  I  would. —  From  thefeand 
fimilar  evidences,  I  dare  not  but  conclude,  upon  the 
moft  diligent  fearch  I  can  make,  that  I  am  a  Chrif« 
tian,  and  no  hypocrite. 

1707,  April  15.  I  believe  thy  power  and  truth  for 
victory  over  fin,  and  the  fafe  poifeffion  of  heaven  at 
laft.  O  leave  me  not,  and  I  Ihall  fhortly  caft  my 
crown  at  thy  feet,  and  cry,  Grace,  grace  forever  !  to 
God,  and  to  the  Lcmb,  and  to  the  holy  Spirit  of  love. 

April  20.  Sweet  was  this  morning's  retirement,  in 
reading  iV«/72/5d?rj  xxi.  Lord,  what  encouragement  is 
there  in  looking  to  Jefns,  for  healing  of  llie  flaming 
iiings  of  fm  in  my  foul  !  What  my  tears  cannot 
quench,  my  exalted  Savior  can.  O  fend  thy  Spirit 
to  be  a  well  of  life  in  my  foul  !  Spring  up,  O  well^ 
this  day,  and  caufe  me  10  fmg,  and  let  poor,  difeafed 
fouls  be  healed  in  the  waters  of  the  fancluary  1 

July  4.  1  cannot  yet  get  the  art  of  awaking  with 
Gcvd,  giving  him  the  nobleft,  firil-born  thoughts. 
Though  gracioudy  eafed  of  accle  pains  in  the  night, 
yet  near  an  hour  after  waking,  ere  my  heart  fixed  on 
heavenly  objecls.  Oh  !  how  fhort  of  due  improve- 
ment of  Hying  m.oments,  of  fabbaths,  holy  ordinance?, 
^ni\  Chriftian  converfation,  though  gracioufly  alliiled 
in  all,  and  lately  more  than  formerly,  blefied  be  God  ! 

Augufi  17.  I  go  to  this  holy  feaft,  [the  Lord^s  Sup- 
per,) for  increafe  of  faith,  that  1  may  more  clearly  ap- 
prehend divine  truths,  and  be  m.ore  diftin£l  and  firm 
in  the  alTiirance  of  them,  that  mjy  confent  to  the  cov- 
enant may  be  more  free,  refolved  and  delightful,  that 
my  love  may  he  more  inflamed,  and  that  I  may  be 
more  patient  in  fuffering,  and  more  diligent  in  doing, 
the  will  of  God.  I  depend  on  the  fufficient  grace  of 
God  for  ftrength   in  all  duties,   for  wifdom  to  dire(5l 

me, 


-     Mrs.  Elizabeth  Bury.  325 

»ie,  and  for  vidory  over  fin  and  temptation.  Help, 
Lord,  under  all  affli6tion,  and  in  my  lafl:  change  i 
Strengthen  my  faith,  patience  and  diligence,  by  this 
ordinance  ! 

1709,  y^ft.  I.  I  bewailed  the  fins  of  my  life,  ef~ 
pecially  the  pride,  felf-love  and  vain-glory  I  am 
fniarting  for,  in  my  dear  relations'  mifery.  Lord  ! 
I  loathe  my  (inful  foul  :  I  adore  thy  patience  :  I  ac- 
cept the  punilhment  of  my  iniquity  :  I  acknowledge 
thyjuflice,  I  admire  thy  mercy,  in  the  everlaifing  cov- 
enant. I  renew  my  covenant  with  thee  in  thy  ftrength, 
to  be  entirely  and  eternally  thine  ;  and  can,  through 
thy  grace,  profefs,  that  I  have  neither  power  norhicli^ 
nation  to  revoke  myfoleinn  dedicaticti  to  thee.  I  love  and 
ehoofe  ail  thy  laws  "and  precepts  :  I  abhor  every  devi- 
ation from  them  in  heart  or  life  :  I  deprecate  fin  more 
than  any  fwffering.  Accept,  Lord,  through  Cliriil,thy 
poor  willing,  v/eak,  finful  child,  in  the  fervice  and 
duties  of  the  enfuing  year. 

17 10,  July  1 6.-  I  was  grieved  to  read  that  aiTcr- 
tion  of  Popinus  and  Quintinus,  in  Calvin's  time,  that 
the  only  mortification  required  offinnersy  was  to  cxtin- 
guijh  the  Jenje  off^n  in  their  hearts.  But  furely  this 
is  to  mortify  repentance y  noifin  ;  to  kill  the  new  mar?, 
not  the  old  ;  to  out-face  confcience,  and  not  to  quiet 
it  !  Surely  where  there  is  fin,  there  muft  and  vv'iil  be 
trouble  ! 

Nov.  17, 18'.  I  reflecledon  the  covenant  I  have  long 
fmce  made,  and  often  with  joy  renewed,  andwas  nevl 
cr  willing  to  retraa.  I  ftili  find  my  grief,  forrow 
ani  iliame  for  my  natural  pollution  and  eftrangement 
from  God,  exceeds  all  the  forrow  and  trouble  I  have 
ior  any  lofs,  crofs  or  difappointm.ent  in  this  world,. 
Though  not  fo  paflionate,  it  is  more  durable.  1  do 
clleem  it  the  worlf  mifery  I  ftd,  that  I  can  love  God 
no  more  ;  thatft  can  honor  and  ftrve  him  no  better. 
I  am  not  a  willing  fubjea  to  Satan.  I  refift  his  mo^ 
tiorjs,  I  abhor  his  rule,  and  fiy  to  my  Redeemer  for 
D  d  2  "  '  {iier.".^;ii 


326  Memoirs  gf 

ftrength  to  overcome  all  his  temptations.  I  do  not^ 
confent  to,  nor  indulge  the  intereft  of  the  flefh.  I 
flruggle  againit  its  dominion.  I  would  allov/  it  but 
%vhat  tends  to  make  it  more  ferviceable  to  the  glory 
of  God,  and  the  good  of  my  immortal  foul.  I  do  not 
take  up  with  this  world  for  ray  portion.  I  would 
lather  be  denied  anything  in  it,  if  I  may  thereby  en- 
joy more  of  God.  I  lefs  defire  its  honors,  riches  and 
pleafures  than  formerly.  I  thankfully  own  thy  boun- 
ty, O  Lord  !  in  fupplying  my  v/ants,  in  fweetening 
my  nearell  relations,  and  a  thoufand  comforts  1  en- 
joy :  but,  Lord  1  I  will  not  take  this  for  my  portion. 
J  would  rather  lofe  them  all  than  the  light  of  thy 
countenance,  {o  far  as  I  know  my  heart.  I  do  dai- 
ly, thankfully,  joyfully  accept  and  rely  on  the  Lord 
Jcfus  Chrift,  as  ofxered  in  the  gofpci,  to  juftify  my 
poor,  miferable,  guilty  foul,  that  has  nothing  in  it 
but  fin  and  mifery,  and  muft  perifii  forever,  if  thou 
■wilt  not  pity  and  fave  it  ;  but  hopes  to  cad-its  crown 
TA  thy  feet,  and  cry,  Grace  I  Grace  I — Lord,  I  ac- 
cept thy  government  with  equal  defire  as  any  of  thy 
benefits,  and  would  be  faved  from  my  fin,  O  Lord  I 
thou  knoweO".  I  except  not  againll  thy  crofs,  though 
thou  call  for  life  itfelf,  or  any  thing  in  it  :  but  I  am 
afraid  of  my  poor,  feeble,  timorous  fpirit.  Lord  i 
i  rely  on  thy  flrength.  Never  leave  me  to  defert  thy 
intereft,  whatever  it  coft  me.  Lord  !  Jehovah  !  Fath- 
iher  !  Son  \  and  Holy  Spirit  !  I  ftill  give  myfelf  to 
Thee,  to  thy  praife.  Lord  !  thy  glory  is  m.y  ulti- 
jTiate  end.  All  I  am,  or  have,  or  can  do,  is  of  the 
Lord,  and  from  him.  With  joy  and  thankfulnefs  I 
rccognife  thy  right,  and  yield  up  myfelf  to  xhe/an^- 
if^^if^i power  of  the  Spirit ;  confenting  that  thou  fhouldft 
cleanfe  my  unholy  heart  in  what  way  thou  pleafeft, 
and  write  thy  law  there,  and  make  me  obedient  :— • 
4ind  to  tliy  di/pojing  will,  as  the  rule  of^my  patience  ; 
that  thou  fhouldft  fubdue  every  murmuring  thought  at 

any 


Mrs.  Elizabeth  Bury,  327 

any  thing  thou  doft  v/ith  me  or  mine.  Lord,  I  am  a 
foci  J  thou  art  wife  \  let  thy  will  be  done.     Amen. 

I'jii,  Feb.  II.  Lord  f  I  go  forth  weeping  and 
wanting,  to  thy  houfe  and  table.  I  muft  always  do 
fo  in  this  wrldernefs.  But  blefTed  for  ever  be  the 
Lord,  my  Redeemer  and  my  King,  for  his  bountiful 
provifion's  in  the  way,  of  which  1  am  invited  to   eat, 

left  the  journey  be  too  hard  for    me.  . The 

Lord,  my  King,  who  invited  me  to  his  table,  and  gave 
me  a  fpiritual  appetite  and  expectation,  fat  with  me, 
2nd  entertained  my  foul,  and  fweetly  excited  my  re- 
pentance, faith,  love,  filial  fear  and  hope.  Through 
his  ftrength,  I  covenanted  to  love  him  and  all  his 
better. 

1712,  June  17,  to  July  9.  In  the  evening  (June 
17.)  about  7  or  8  o'clock,  I  v/as  feized  with  a  violent 
rigor  upon  my  nerves,  whiclilafted  all  night,  and  next 
morning  a  fever  fucceeded,  which  fo  m^uch  affecled 
my  head,  that  I  was  incapable  of  direding  thofe  a- 
bout  me  what  to  do  with  me.  Yet  fo  gracioufly  did 
God  hear  miy  daily  and  lad  fupplicationin  fecret,  that 
I  was  willing  rather  to  depart  and  be  with  Chrift, 
and  had  not  one  cloud,  doubt,  or  fear  of  death,  through 
the  whole  ficknefs.  The  dlfeafe  appeared  defperate  ; 
and  no  hope  of  my  life  from  human  help  remained;.. 
But  my  dear  relations  ceafed  not  to  pray,  and  call  on 
others  to  join  ;  and  many  from  whom  I  expected  not 
fo  great  a  fhare  of  afFedion,  were  miuch  enlarged  in 
prayer  for  me  ;  and  the  Lord  was  entreated  to  fpare 
a  poor,  fmful,  unworthy,  unprofitable  creature,  and 
fay,  returriy  while  firong  men  bowed  under  the  fame 
difeafe,  and  fell  down  flain,  though  they  had  the  fame 
phyficians,  and  the  fame  means  ufed  for  them,  as  my- 
felf.  So,  Father,  it  has  feemed  good  in  thy  fight  ( 
Thy  will  be  done  !  But  what  fhall  I  render  ?  What 
fhall  I  do  ?  I  am  thankful  for  life.  It  is  the  gift  of 
God.  It  is  given  in  anfwer  to  prayer.  But,  Lord, 
if  I  improve  it  not  for  thy  glory,  how  fad  fliall  I  be  ! 

Thou 


3:28-  Memoirs  of 

Thou  knowefi:  I  had  no  defire  to  live  but  for  oettcf 
fervice.  And  fhall  I  be  called  from  a  feemingly  a- 
feundant  entrance  into  glory,  again  to  ftruggle  with 
ilefh  and  blood,  the  v/orld  and  the  Devil,  and  not  be^ 
made  more  than  conqueror,  through  theCaptain  of  mv 
falvation  r  O  Lord,  on  thee,  through  thy  afliflance', 
did  I  caft  my  finful  foul  and  difeafed  body,  when  I 
thought  them  parting  afunder,  without  any  reludant 
thought;  and  fhall  I  dii'lrufl  thy  power  or  love  in  what 
thou  haft  yet  for  me  to  do  or  fuffer  ?  Strengthen  my 
faith  by  this  experience  of  thy  power  and  goodnefsV 
for  Jefus'  f«ike,  v/hom  thou  heareft  always. 

July  27.  The  Lord  God  of  nature,  grace  and  glo- 
ry, has  been  All  in  all  to  my  foul  and  body  this  morn- 
ing. Son  of  David  !  I  feel  thou  haft  the  mercies 
of  a  God,  and  the  compaffions  of  a  man.  O  fatisfy^ 
my  craving  foul  with  nearer  and  fvveeter  communion- 
with  thee  ftill,  in  thy  houfe,  and  at  thy  table. 

1713,  March  22.  I  cannot  deny,  O  Lord,  the  marks 
of  a  true  love  to  thee.  I  do  value  thee  above  all,  and 
Verily  hope  I  can  part  with  all  for  thee.  I  am  fure> 
that  I  have  a  love  for  ordinances,  and  a  thirft  after- 
Thyfelf  :  that  there  is  no  pleafure  fogre^t  to  me  as- 
communion  with  thee  ;  no  grief  fo  lafting  and  fo- 
pungent,  as  diftance  and  eftrangement  from  thee.  L 
have  not  ordinarily  any  hard  thoughts  of  thee.  I  am- 
fure  I  allow  of  none.  '  I  have  a  filial  fear  of  offending, 
thee,  efpccially  when  I  enjoy  thy  fmiles.  I  can  mourn 
heartily  for  grieving  thee^  when  thou  art  evidencing- 
to  me  thy  pardoning  love.  My  ftudied,  allowed,  and- 
moft  pleafant  m.editations  are  of  thee.  I  choofe  thy 
intercft,  and  would  ever  prefer  it  to  my  own,  I  love- 
thy  memory,  and  to  commemorate  thy  dying  love  at 
thy  table.  1  do  commend  thy  love  to  all  otr.ers  ;  but 
O  that  it  were  more  feelingly  and  fervently  !  lam 
grieved  when  thy  name  is  profaned,  though  I  am  not 
valiant  enough  in  refenting  the  affrOut.  1  would  o- 
bey  all  thy  commandments  mere  fmcerely,  freely  and 

conitantly^ 


Mrs.  Elizabeth  Bury,  329 

Gonflantly,  in  the  mod  difficult  articles,  and  mod:  dan- 
gerous ieafons.  Lord,  help  me  !  Eternal  God-man! 
I  love  xhy  pej'forif  as  well  as  thy  benefits.  I  love  thy 
fweet  difpofitions,  and  aim  at  likeneCs,  but  attain  too 
little.  1  adore  thee  as  the  Son  and  Servant  of  God  ; 
as  my  Redeemer,  Hufband  and  Advocate.  I  would 
fubmit,  and  be  faithful,  loyal  and  loving.  I  adore 
thy  fuitablenefs.  I  feel  my  need  of  thee,  and  accept 
ihee  in  all  thy  ofrices.  I  adore  and  love  thee  for  all 
thy  graces,  and  ilrive  to  imitate  them.  I  adore  and 
Jove  thee  for  all  thine  ordinances,  in  which  thou  haO; 
often  fhewn  me  thy  unparalleled  love. 

Jprll  25^  26.  O  Lord  !  if  I  hate  any  thing,  I 
Iiate  fin  ;  and  if  I  love  any    thing,  I  love  thee  :  buf 

0  that  I  could  find  both  in  more  intenfe  degrees! — I' 
fee],  Lord;,  that  in  thy  ftrength,  Lean  do  all  ;  though 
io  weak  in  myfelf,  that  I  can  do  nothing.''  Lord, 
vouchfafe  the  benign  influences  of  thy  Spirit,  and  I 
fhall  get  nearer,  and  tafte  more  of  thee,  this  day,  than- 
ever.  Awake,  O  North  w  ind  ;  come  thou  South.— ^ 
BlefTed  Spirit  blow,  and  I  fliall  praife  ! 

Ocf,  4.  I  awoke  and  rofe  in  pain,  which  abated 
with  fuch  tremblings,  ficknefs  and  faintings,  that 
my  natural  fpirits  could  give  no  afiiftance  to  the  joys 
of  this  day.  Yet  never  was  m.y  heart  more  joyful, 
more  pleafed  in  meditation,  prayer,  hearing,  linging, 
converfe,  when  my  fpirits  were  fo  funk  that  Ithought 

1  Ihould  ha'/edied  in  my  pew.  Howpleafant  were  the 
thoughts  of  going  out  of  that  tabernacle  of  grace,,  to 
the  glorious  temple  above!  O  holy  Spirit  of  grace  ! 
how  free,  how  fweet,  how  powerful  are  thy  gracious 
operations  ! 

1714.  Sept.  30.  O  Lord,  who  fcefl  into  the  fecret  re- 
celles  of  my  heart,  thou  knowefl:  my  moft  ardent  de- 
fires  are  after  moreholinefs  and  refemblance  to  thyfelf. 
Thou  gaveft  this  thirft,  not  to  torment  thy  creature. 
Thou  half  pronounced  a  bleding  on  it,  and  .promifed 
that  it  Ihall  be  falisfied.     But  yet  how  little  do  I  find 

mv 


■330  Memoirs  of 

my  foul  as  yet  conformed  to  thy  image  and  will !  Lor(?> 
fhall  I  have  the  name  of  thy  child  fo  many  years,  and 
yet  no  more  of  thy  nature  ?  O  that  Iwere  more  meek, 
mcrcitul,  hum.ble,  thankful,  patient,  ready  to  give, 
and  to  forgive  !  O  Lord,  1  have  chofen  thee  for  my 
portion,  and  verily  hope  thou  art  and  will  be  my  ever- 
lafting  felicity  ;  and  yet,  what  little  felfilh  defigns  and 
thoughts  perplex  my  m.ind  !  I-  know,  and  daily  feel 
there  is  nothing  in  this  world  can  fatisfy  my  foul ;  and 
yet  every  little  difappointment  in  the  creature  difcom- 
pofes  my  fpirit.  I  feel  this  earthly  tabernacle  falling 
and  yet  what  little  joy  do  I  find  in  the  profped  of  my 
houfe  in  heaven  !  Lord,  what  unaccountable  contra- 
diftions  are  there  in  my  o'"eceitful  heart  !  O  fearcli, 
and  heal  me  ! 

1715.  June  18.  In  fearching  my  heart,  I  fiill  find 
good  hope,  through  grace,  that  I  am  thy  child,  though 
the  moiT.  unworthy  one  that  could  ever  call  thee  Father. 
And  how  often  do  I  forfeit  the  relation,  and  all  its 
privileges,  by  my  unruly,  undutiful  carriage,  and  un- 
filial  temper !  O  Lord,  I  own  thy  right  to  rule  and  difpofe 
ofme,andrownitmyhappinefs,-  I  have folemnly  will- 
ingly, cheerfully  devoted  ray felf  to  thee,  to  be  taught  thy 
will,  with  a  full  refolution  to  obey  and  fubmit;  to  be  heal- 
ed of  the  plague  in  my  heart  by  any  method  thou  flialt 
choofe.  1  rely  on  thy  fatisfadion  and  interceflion  a- 
lone,  for  pardon  and  reconciliation.  Lgive  myfelf  to 
thy  dIre£lion,  with  refolution  to  follow  thy  guidance 
always  ;  and  to  thy  difpofal,  with  refolutions  to  ac- 
quiefce  in  all  thou  doft.  Yet,  Lord,  my  treacherous 
heart  rebels  \  obeys  not  thy  precepts  ;  frets  at  thy 
methods  of  curing  nyy  finful  foul  ;  is  unapt  to  urt- 
derifand  thy  guidance,  or  negligent  in  following  ;  and 
fo  fretful  and  peevilh  a«t  thy  difpofals,  as  if  it  would 
Ve  its  own  carver,  and  bafe  felf  its  own  centre*  O 
Lord!  I  am  amazed,  afhamed  and  forrowful  at  thefe 
remaining  feeds  of  the  old  apoftacy  \  this  pride,  in- 
gratitude,. 


Mrs.  Elizabeth  Bury.  331 

gratituds,  folly.  Lord,  when  {hall  I  be  healed  ? 
Waih  me  thoroughly,  and  make  me  clean.  Renew 
4hine  image,  and  it  is  enough,  whatever  elfe  thou  de- 
nieft  me.  I  willingly  bind  my  foul  to  thee  againll 
Jill  fin,  more  efpecially  this  fm  that  does  fo  eafily  be- 
fet  me,  the  ^'///)A7r^«<:/ of  my  fpirit  at  thy  wife  and 
holy  difpofals.  Lord,  I  own  it  is  moft  unjuft,  un- 
ieafonabie,ungrateful,yet  I  cannot Gonquerwithout  thy 
strength  ;  and  in  that,  I  covenant  never  to  indulge  it. 
I  hate  my  uncharitable,  peevifli  refentments  of  inju- 
ries, and  hardnefs  to  forgive  and  forget.  Lord,  in- 
creafe  Kiy  faith,  that  I  may  do  better.  I  will  now 
covenant,  in  thy  ftrength,  to  walk  more  Godlike, 
more  holMy  and  righteoully,  and  to  be  more  inward- 
ly and  univerfally  good,  in  all  places  and  relations,  in 
clofer  communion  with  God,  in  ordinances  and  prov.- 
-idences,  and  to  watch  againft  all  fm,  and  be  more 
tiiligent  in  all  duty.  But,  Lord,  without  thee,  I  cau 
do  nothing  !  I  am  oppreiTed  ;  Lord,  undertake  for  me. 
July  31.  I  went  out  in  hope  ot  feme  revival,  and 
heard  fome  of  the  fermon  ;  \_a  partial  deaf r.efs  was 
^low  upon.her,~\  and  my  heart  anTwered  the  marks  of  a 
deliberate,  free,  humble,  thankful,  cordial,  unllmit- 
-ed  confent  to  be  the  Lord's.  I  renounce  ail  others, 
and  love  to  love  and  obey  him.  -I  love  his  precepts  ; 
and  would  rather  conform  to  them  all,  than  be  par- 
doned for  breaking  any.  I  fubmit  to  bis  difcipline  ; 
-but  cannot  be  fo  cheerful  under,  or  thankful  for  it,  as 
1  ought.  Lord  help  me,  that  I  may  neither  deipifc 
-the  rod,  nor  faint  when  I  am  corrected.  I  adore  and 
love  all  tiiy  perfections,  even  thy  juilice,  power  and 
•fovereignty.  I  know  thy  goodnefs  is  comm.enfurate 
with  all,  and  is  thy  glory.  I  adore  and  f&ke  thee  for 
my  portion  here,  and  for  ever.  I  defire  no  other,  but 
.more  of  thee,  and  then  I  have  a  goodly  heritage.  I 
like  and  love  thy  people,  though  weak,  infirm,  and 
with  fpots,  as  I   have,     I  love  thy  iniiitutions,   and 

Jong 


333  Memoirs  of 

long  to  enjoy  thee  in  all  ordinances,  and  to  imitate 
thee  in  holinefs,  juilice,  goodncfs  and  patience. 

Lord  thou  knuvveft  this  to  be  my  love  and  choice  ; 
thou  madeft  meconfent  ;  and  therefore  I  hope  thou 
haft  chofen  me,  a  poor,  vile,  impotent  wretch,  for 
thou  betrotheji  in  righteonjnejs  to  thy  covenant  [Hojea 
2.  19.)  with  thy  Son,  my  Redeemer.  He  has  paid 
my  debts  to  thy  juftice,  and  thou  wilt  not  be  twice 
paid.  ThoM  betrotheji  alfo  in  judgment  ;  on  mature 
counfel.  Thy  gifts  and  callings  are  without  repen- 
tance. Thou  forefavvelt  all  events,  and  how  often  I 
iliould  abufc  thy  mercy,  and  grieve  thy  Spirit,  and  yet 
hetrotheji  in  judgment.  O  adorable,  pure  love  and 
kindneis,  to  betroth  a  creature  fo  vile  by  birch,  fo  de- 
formed, fo  lame,  fo  blind,  fo  weak^  fo  poor,  and  yet 
fo  proud  !  O  the  multitude  of  mercies  original  and 
aclual,  firft  and  continued  m.srcies,  in  this  efpoufal ! 
Betrothed  2\'iQ  in  falthfulnejs.  Though  fubjevR:  to  fo 
many  infirmities,  and  worfe  tranfgreHions,  yet  in 
faithfulnejs.  Though  I  fin,  and  thou  corredeft, 
yet  thy  faithful  covenant  falls  not.  Thou  wilt  nev- 
er caft  me  otF,  and  I  fiiail  never  depart  from  thee. 
Amen.  Amen. 

Ocl,  2.  Lord,  melt  my  dull  heart  with  the  diftin- 
guifliing,  unparalleled  kindnefs  fliewn  to  unworthy 
me,  in  watering  my  fleece,  while  the  ground  has  been 
dry  around  me.  O  the  riches  of  immortal  grace  !  If 
I  outlive  my  fenfes,  I  cannot  outlive  my  graces.  O 
how   beautiful  !  how  honorable  !  how  durable  ! 

17 16,  June  30.  In  fearching  my  heart,  I  have  fiill 
good  hope  that  my  beloved  is  mine,  and  I  am  his, 
though  ftill  a  poor,  vv^eak,  unworthy,  defiled  child, 
loathing  myfelf,  hating  my  fin,  aihamed  I  get  no  more 
vicliory  under  fuch  means,  fo  many  chaftifements,  and 
more  mercies,  but  flill  find  fuch  rifings  of  corruption, 
•on  every  temptation.  Yet  blefs  the  Lord,  O  my 
foul  !  for  fpcedy  recovery,  and  gracious  aids  of  the 
holy  Spirit,  calming  my  mind,  and  raifing  my  affec- 
tions 


Mrs.  Elizabeth  EiLRY.  333 

'tlons  above  this  world,  Tlie  righteoufnefs  of  Chrift 
is  fufficient  ;  and  1  depend  on  it  for  pardon,  healing, 
conduct,  and  perfeverance  to  eternal  life.  I  would 
be  at  thy  difpofal,  not  my  own,  though  too  often  ir.)- 
fiefh  would  iiave  what  thou  feed  good  to  deny.  What- 
ever decays  of  nature  I  feci,  or  muft  yet  fwfFer,  let 
thy  grace  grow  and  increafe  daily  more  and  more,  till 
thou  bring  me  to  glosy.  Many  dangers  and  difficulties 
are  flill  in  my  way  home.  Flefn  and  heart  may  fail, 
the  world  frown  or  flatter,  my  heart  is  deceitful,  the 
devil,  fubtil  and  malicious  :  but  thou,  Captain  of  my 
jalvatlon  !  hafl  fulfilled  that  character  to  all  that  ever 
truly  trufted  thy  conduit.      On    thee   my    foul  relies. 

0  fail  not  to  perform  all  thy  work  in  and  for  me,  till 

1  caft  my  crown  at  thy  feet,  and  fing   Hallelujah    to 
the  Lamb  for  ever  ! 

0£i.  6.  Not  fo  watchful  over  my  tongue  as  I  ought 
to  have  been,  having  told  a  fault  of  a  member  of  the 
?:oi}gregaiion  to  anotlier,  before  I  had  told  the  guilty. 
I  begged  pardon  for  this,  and  refolve  on  more  watch- 
ful nefs  over  my  words  for  the  future. 

Dec.  3r.  On  review  of  the  year  pad:,  J  m.ufl:  Hill 
witnefs  to  the  truth  and  meTcy  of  God,  who  has  not 
turned  away  from  doing  me  good.  I  acknov/ledge 
'^vith  (hame  and  forrov/,  the  pride,  paflion  and  peev- 
ilhnefs  of  m.y  fpirit,  under  flight  temptations,  againit 
conviclions,  penitent  confefiions,  refolutions,  prayers 
and  tears.  Innumerable  vain  and  finful  thoughts  and 
words  have  i  been  guilty  of  : — yet  the  Lord  has  fpar> 
ed  me  this  year  alfo  ;  has  reflored  my  hearifig,  con- 
tinued my  fight,  previded  food  and  raiment  in  abun- 
dance, given  me  more  health  than  many  of  my  age, 
and  many  times eafed  my  pains  and  healed  my  difeaf- 
es,  when  I  cried  to  him.  But  Oh,  the  rich  grace  and 
mercy  to  my  foul,  when  airaofl:  overwhelmed  with 
forrow  at  finding  fu ch  fad  remainders  of  fin  in  myfelf, 
and  others  dear  to  God  and  me.— Very  fweet  the  Sab- 
baths and  all  the  Sacraments  of  this  year  ha\:e-bcen, 
.£  e  i  -have 


334  Memoirs  of 

1  have  received  many  gracious  anfwers  of  prayers  for 
myfelf,  and  fick  friends.  And  nov5^,  Lord,  I  acknow- 
ledge the  fweetnefs  of  following  thy  conduct,  relying 
on  thy  ftrength,  and  depending  on  thy  word.  I  ac* 
knowledge  the  pleafantnefs  of  thy  ways.  Only  iny 
ilips  in,  and  fteppings  out  of  thy  paths,  have  made  all 
the  bitternefs  of  the  year.  '  ;Lord,  enable  me  to  keep 
the  refohjtion  of  the  year,  to  leave  every  circiimftance 
of  my  future  life  or  deatli  in  thy  hands,  to  be  watch- 
ful over  my  words,  and  to  do  to  others  as  I  would 
they/fhould  do  to  me  !-I  acknowledge  the  multitude, 
ihe  feafonablenefs,  the  extenfivenefs  of  the  national 
mercies,  in  anfwer  to  the  prayers  of  a  poor  remnant. 
.  .  .  But  O  how  fhort  our  returns  of  praife  and  duty. 

1717,  Fel?.  10.  Lord,  how  fweet  has  this  day  of  the 
Son  of  man  been  to  me  !  in  fecret  reading  and  medi- 
tation ;  in  prayer  alone,  and  with  the  family  ;  in  pub- 
lic prayer,  fmging,  preaching,  and  after-refledion. 
O  Son  and  Lamb  of  God,  v.'ho  diedft  for  me,  and  haft 
given  me  life  !  let  all  my  interefts  ever  bow  to  thine 
■ — ai!  my  corrupt  pafTions  be  fubdued  by  thee — my  life 
ready  to  be  parted  with  at  thy  call.  O  holy  Spirit  of 
grace  !  contini;e  thy  fweet  and  powerful  influences 
on  my  foul. 

1 7 18,  July  ,14..    Very  dull  and  drowfy  all  this  day. 

2  have  often  covenanted  to  be  the  Lord's  with  foul 
and  fpirit,  with  will  and  affedions  :  but  yet  how 
treacherous  and  unprot'itable  have  I  been  I  I  have 
Tcnounced  fin,  felf,  this  world  ;  yet  how  often  have  I 
been  overcome  by  tbem  !  I  have  taken  Chriil  Jefus 
the  Lord  on  his  own  terms,  to. love,  obey  and  ferve 
liim;  but  how  fhort  have  I  been  found  in  all!  I  have 
given  up  myfelf  to  God  through  Chrift,  to  the  fandli- 
fying  operations  of  the  holy  Spirit,  to  the  command- 
ing power  of  his  lav/,  and  the  difpofals  of  his  provi- 
dence, and  would  be  "to  him  a  praife  ;  yet  how  often 
have  I  been  a  diflionor  to  him  !  Lord,  I  flill  refolve, 
in  thy  ftrength,  to  be  what  I  ought.  Be  furety  for 
,iby  weak,  b°ut  willing/ervant  !  Dec, 


Mrs.  Elizabeth  Burv.  335 

D^fT.  31.  Infinitepatiencchas  borne  Avith  me  this  year 
alfo  ;  and  pitied,  and  pardoned,  and  revived  my  droop- 
ing foul.  When  I  have  accepted  the  punilhment  of 
my  fin,  and  returned  to  him  with  weeping  and  fup- 
plication,  he  has  turned  my  midnights  into  joyful  and 
bright  days.  In  all  the  changes  ot  this  year,  God  has 
called  and  encouraged  me  to  pray  and  wait  ;  and  he 
has  heard  and  anfwered.  And  my  foul  acknowledges 
his  truth  and  goodnefs  in  all  I  have  called  upon  him 

for.  ':.... 

1720,  Jan.  I,  and  2.  I  encled  the  laft,  and  began 
the  prefent  year  in  extremity  of  pain.  After  a  long, 
vaking  night,  I  could  not  hx  my  mind  on  any  thing 
W'ith  comfort,  till  pail  four  in  the  morning,  when  I 
furrendered  myfeif  afreili  to  God,  and  begged  healing 
for  my  difc-afed  foul.  Irofe  at  fix  in  much  pain,  en- 
treated of  God  to  reconcile  me  to  his"  difclpline,  and 
fhew  m.e wherefore  he  thus  contends  with  me.  Not 
long  after,  I  had  fome  eafe,  and  was  carried  in  a  cluir 
to  the  houfe  of  God,  where  1  gave  thanks,  and  expe- 
rienced a  joyful  day:  Lord,'  pity  and  heal  my  foul, 
and  prepare  me  for  glory  1  O  make  had:e,  my  Beloved, 
and  end  thefe  days  of  f:n  and  forrow  to  a  poor  diftreii- 
ed  worm,  that  longs  to  be  w^ith  thee, 

Feb.  21.  Sweet  entertainments  !  How  excellent  is 
thy  loving  kindnefs,  OLord!  How  gracious  was 
thine  affirtance  to  thine  atr.balfador  in  public,  and  to  a 
pbor  worm  in  family worfhip! 

March  6.  I  went  out  and  heard  the  fermonin  great 
pain,  and  renewed  the  folemn  dedication  of  myfeif  to 
God,  with  firm  refolutions,  in  his  ftrength,  to  acqui- 
efce  in  his  all-wife  difcipline,  as  bed  for  m.e,  however 
grievous  to  my  fiefh.  1  returned  in  great  torture,  but 
with  fubmiffiOH'to  the  rod,  though  its  lirokes  are  very 
lliarp. 

April  18.  The  Lord  has  hitherto  helped  mt  under 
bodily  infirmities.  1  pray  ?.nd  hope  and  wait  for  his 
gracious  aids,  under  ^11  my  fpirftiJ^l  complaints  and 

laaladies* 


33^'  Memoirs  op 

maladies.  Thou,  Lord,  knoweft  my  Imnger  andthiril; 
lor  more  righteournefs  :  and  thou  haft  laid  I  ihall  be 
filled.  I  rely  on  thee,  O  thou  eternal  Jmen,  and  on 
thy  power,  compaflion  and  faithfulnefs,  tor  what  L 
want,  and  am  longing  for. 

/Way  r.  [Tzvodays  before Jhe  zvti3  feized  zvith  herlaji 
fichnejs.'},  While  1  looked  inward,  I.  w^as  overwhelm- 
ed with  forrow,  for  the  fad  remainders  of  vain  and  evil 
thoughts,  pride,  felfi(hnefs,&c.  which  damped  my  joy 
and  praife.  O  Lord,  accept  my  broken  heart,  which 
tliou  haft  faid  thou  wilt  not  defpife.  Teach  me  bet- 
ter how  to  rejoice  and  mourn  togeiherj  and  give  m 
\iclory  over  my  heart-fins. 


IMrs.  Bury,  as  her  hufband  and  biographer  obferve?^ 
**  wrote  often  to  her  intimate  friends,  efpecially  fuch 
as  were  young,  to  perfuade  them  of  the  reafonablenefs 
and  benefit  of  the  great  duties  of  religion — to  w^arnt 
them  againft  the  temptations  of  their  age  and  ftations, 
and  to  improve  tlieir  education — to  excite  them  to 
early  and  exemplary  piety — toconfute  their  objedions 
— to  imprefs  upon  them  the  obligation  of  their  bap- 
lifmal  covenant — to  I'atisfy  their  Ipi ritual  doubts,  to 
encourage  their  hopes  in  God,  and  ]'erfevcrance  ia  a 
Chriftian  courfe." 

We  conclude  the  prefent  memoirs  with  a  few  o: 
thefe  valuable  letters. 


Letter     L 
V^o  a  perjon  impatient  under  crojjes, 
Aly  penfive  temper  feeds  not  fo  much  on  fu- 


ture, 2s  prefent  troubles.     I   never  live,  till  I   get  an 
hour's  ccnverfe  with   myfelf,   and  with  that  God  in 
whofe  hand  my  times  are.     But  when  I  can  turh  in- 
ward,. 


Mrs.  Elizabeth  Bury.  337 

ward,  and  ferioufly  confidcr  the  caiife  and  effecls  of 
iny  impatient  ftruggles  under  the  mofi:  juit  and  pe^r- 
fedly  wife  difpofals  of  Providence,  I  am  cure  J,  for 
that  day,  by  finding  worle  troubles  within,  than  ever 
I  found  without.  So  true  is  great  Mr.  Dod's  faying, 
that  ivherefmfJs  heavy ^  the  crofs  fits  light.  I  cannot 
but  think  it  unparalleled  ingratitude,  ihat  creatures 
fallen  from  Gcd,  the  chief  good,  and  final  happinefsof 
immortal  fpirits,  and  yet  reilored  by  God  incarnate, 
fliould  fo  bafely  difputc  the  tailing  of  the  cup,  the 
dregs  of  which  he  himfelf  drank  up  for  us.  What  zzn 
"We  fuffer,  from  friends  or  enemies,  in  body,  foul, 
name  or  eftate,  that  he  has  not  waded  through,  and 
triumphed  over,  for  our  good,  and  in  our  flead  ?  And- 
is  not  our  quickening  Head,  the  fecond  Adam,  as 
powerful  to  conquer  fm  and  forrow,  as  the  firft  Adam 
was  to  convey  them  ?  O  for  a  more  lively  faith  in  the 
great  Redeemer,  to  heal  our  fouls  of  this  plague  \ 
Could  heathens  fay,  it  was  glorious  to  live,  when  it 
was  eailer  to  die  ;  and  cannot  we  be  willing  to  live 
"when  every  thing  in  life  does  not  plcafe  us  ?  Oh  ! 
how  unv/orihy  of  Chrillians  is  futh  impatience  !  I 
long  for  heaven  more  for  freedom  from  fiich  reludaii-- 
cies  at  the  divine  will,  than  from  any  troubles  this 
world  creates  mc 


Letter   if. 

To  a  parent y  on  the  death  of  a  child. 

~ 1  know  your  tender  love  to  your  children  muft 

make  a  wound  in  your  heart,  when  you  lofe  any  : 
but  L  hope  grace,  and  long  experience  of  God-s  all- 
fufficiency,  eternity,  and  the  unchangeahlenefs  of  his 
love  and  covenant,  are  better  to  you  thar;  ycur  own, 
or  y^^ur  children's  lives.  The  good  alTu ranee  yon r 
dau^h.er  left  behind,  of  her  entering  into  imm'.rta^ 
L  Q  %  glory 


33^  Memoirs  of 

glory,  has  fet  her  above  our  pity.  And  as  to  omfelveSj. 
our  fhort  remaining  moments  here,  and  good  hope^^ 
through  grace,  of  being  very  foon  with  all  our  de- 
parted, perfected  friends,  fliould  greatly  moderate  our 
forrows.  For  why,  for  fo  fliort  a  time,  {hould  we  be 
fo  much  concerned  whether  we  meet  them  next  on 
earthy  or  in  the  heavenly  manfions  ;  elpecially  fmce 
the  lail:  only  can  afford  us  thai  joy  andpleafure  which 
are  without  alloy  or  mixture  ?  If  to  hear  that  your 
children  at  a  diftance  are  well  on  earth,  rejoices  you, 
why  not,  to  know  that  any  of  them  are  well,  and  can^ 
Jicvei:  be  otherwife,  in  heaven  ? 


Letter  III". 

—  I  caniot  but   offer  at  fome  adlftance    under 

your  Teeming  doubt,  J'Fhether  a  per/on  may  certainly 
'know  in  what  ftate  he  is  P  If  once  we  can  perfuade 
ourfelves  that  the  greateft  good  is  not  attainable,  it 
ceafes  to  be  the  objecSl  of  our  hope  and  endeavor.  That 
xvicked  men  may  without  doubt  conclude  themfelves 
luch,  and  confequently  in  a  damnable  (late,  you  might 
pofiibly  believe  more  eafily,  than  that  a  perfon  truly 
accepting  Chriit  upon  gofpel  terms,  may  difcern  that 
lie  doth  fo,  and  is  confequently  in  a  flate  of  falvation,. 
But  that  both  are  to  be  known,  I  think  is  fufficiently 
evident  from  Scripture,  fmce  it  puts  us  upon  judging 
and  trying  ourfeives,  and  making  fure  our  own  fai- 
vatlon.  Befides,  how  many  faints  have  affirmed  their 
knowledge  and  joyful  evidences  of  God's  grace  in 
them  [—Add  further,  that  our  bleffed  Redeemer  him- 
felf  has  laid  dovv*n  this  as  an  evident  title  to  the  heav- 
enly manficns  ;  that  if  our  hearts  are  there,  our 
trcafures  are  there  alfo,  Maitleiv  6.  21.  Can  we  ima- 
gine that  the  good  Spirit  of  God  would  excite  our 
defires  after  fuch  an  inheritance,  only  to  torment  or 
deceive  us  ?  No,  furely.  He  who  is  gone  before,  to 

prepare 


Mrs.  Elizabeth  Bury,  339 

prepare  a  place  for  his  difciples,  has  left  them  his  Holy- 
Spirit  not  only  to  fit  them  for  that  glorious  inh'jritance, 
but  alfo  to  feal  them  up  to  the  day  of  redemption,  and 
give  them  undoubted  pledges  and  earnefts  of  their  fu- 
ture poifeffion. — The  major  propofition  is  unqueftion- 
ably  true  ;  that  he  who  believes  Jhall  be  Javcd :  the 
doubt  will  lie  in  the  minor — but  I  believe  :  but  upon 
ferious  trial,  you  may  come  to  the  knowledge  that 
you  are  the  true  believer.  That  fome  upon  their  firft 
converfion,  have  been  able  to  draw  the  conclufion,  I 
have  no  reafon  to  doubt  :  but  it  is  not  God's  ordinary 
method  to  convince,  convert,  and  affiire  at  once.  Do 
not  therefore  impatiently  conclude  that  affurance  is 
not  attainable,  becaufe  it  is  not  yet  attained  :  but  with 
ftrenuous  endeavors  be  dill  purfuing  the  making  of 
your  calling  and  eledion  fure  ;  always  remembering 
that  it  is  the  fame  Spirit  who  works  grace,  who  alone 
can  fhine  on  it,  and  give  you  the  clear  knov/ledge  of 
his  work.  Pray  hard,  and  be  very  thankful  for  his 
lead  afTiftance,  than  which  I  know  not  a  more  effedlual 
way  to  gain  more.  Bev/are  of  grieving  him,  by  con- 
tinuing in  any  knovv'n  fm,  or  negleding  any  known 
duty.  If  you  dally  or  trifle  in  your  return  to  God,  it 
will  not  only  make  your  cafe  feem  doubtful,  but,  like 
a  broken  bone,  make  you  halt  for  many  years  to 
come.  The  fmallell  fin,  if  not  refifted  and  mourned 
over,  will  breed  doubts  and  troubles,  as  furcly  as  pu- 
trid fiefli  engenders  worms.  Therefore  fall  to  your 
Avork  in  earned  ;  and  I  can  adiire  you,  the  fooner  you 
begin,  the  greater  will  be  your  honor  and  peace. — - 
Though  you  may  not  prefently  be  able  to  affirm  an  in- 
fallible certainty  of  your  date,  yet,  if  by  fuch  means 
you  attain  a  comfortable  hope  to  encourage  future  en- 
deavors, who  knows  how  foon  you  may  triumph  over 
your  conquered_enemies  I 

Letter  IV. 


o,4<$  Memoirs  or 

Letter  IV. 
On  the  death  of  an  intimate  friend* 
I  came   hither  to  clofe  the  eyes  of  my  dea'/ 


friend  ;  and  fince  ihe  might  fliine  no  longer  among 
fmful  worms  here,  I  blefs  God  who  brought  me  lo 
her  inftruciive  death-bed,  where  faith,  fubmillion,  pa- 
tience, and  aimort  uninterrupted  joy  in  breathing  af' 
ter  her  dsar  Redeemer,  more  than  equalled  all  I  ever 
faw  in  one  who  lay  fo  long  in  fight  of  the  laft  ghaftly 
enemy.  And  though  I  cannot  yet  pray  againft  fiidden 
death,  her  fteadfaft  hope  and  glorious  conqueft  have 
given  me  more  tolerable  thoughts  of  languilliing  fick- 
nefs  ;  fince  I'  faw  in  her,  that  neither  firength  of 
pain,  nor  weaknefs  of  the  patient,  can  hinder  a  tri-' 
umphant  exit,  when'  God  will  make  his  joy  our' 
iirength. 

Letter  V. 

Direction's  how  to  ir.flruSt  a  child,  ' 

'- 1  ain  glad  yourbrother  can  fo  prettily  divert' 

you.  I  with  you  wifdom  and  love  to  initrucb  him. 
Be  very  watchful  of  his  converfation  ;  and  whatever 
you  find  faulty  in  him,  flaew  him  the  evil  of  it,  rather 
than  charge  him  with  it,  left  you  put  him  upon  lying 
to  hide  his  guilt.  Let  him  fee  you  love  him,  belore 
you  chiile  him  ;  and  that  you  are  ready  to  conceal  or 
excufe  his  tolerable  faults.  Be  very  frequent,  but  not 
tedious,  in  your  iallruclions,  Oi'ren  open  the  nature, 
and  inculcate  the  neceflity,  of  prayer  tor  all  we  want, 
and  the  encoOraging'  promifes  of  God  that  he  will 
hear  us.  Llfp  to  your  brother  in  his  own"lar)guage', . 
•what  he  prays  for  by  his  form  ;  and  labor  to  excite 
Inhiiua  ienfe  of  his  fad  if  ate  by   Hh;  greater  defires 

aner^- 


Mrs.  Elizabeth  Busy.  341 

.iUer  grace,  and  fuller  refolutions  and  endeavors  after 
the  lite  and  power  of  gcdlinefs.  Let  fome  part  of 
his  catechifm  be  daily  recited,  and  what  he  moil  im- 
perfedly  repeats,  be  faid  at  his  going  to  fleep,  and  at 
his  firft  waking.  Talk  over  the  fermons  you  hear 
together,  in  language  adapted  to  his  capacity  ;  and 
fail  not  to  beg  of  Goil  a  bleffing  upon  all  your  labors, 
elfe  you  will  do  little  to  purpofe.  If  God  makes  you 
inftrumental  to  the  converfion  of  your  brothers  and 
fillers,  it  will  be  a  great  honor  and  comfort,  and  pro- 
duce the  flrongeil  union  among  you.  Take  fpecial 
care  of  ihofe  who- are  in  the  greateft  danger.  Imitate 
your  godly,  impartial  mother,  who,  though  fhe  loved, 
all  her  children  alike,  would  yet  often  fay,  if  jheknevj 
to  which  child  Jhe  had  conveyed  mojl  of  her  Jinful  na- 
ture yjhe  would  pity,  and  endeavor  the  help  of  that  child 
?nojL 


Letter  VL 

To  a  friend  under  great  dejeSlion  and  defertion, 
■In  thefe  dark  hours  of  your  life,  thefdence  of 


your  friends  may  leem  unnatural.  I  cannot  therefore 
but  heartily  condole  you,  and  beg  you  would  not  ima- 
gine your  cafe  to  be  unufual,  or  out  of  the  road  of 
God's  fatherly  difcipline  :  for  what  good  Chriftian's 
diary  did  you  ever  read,  or  hear  of,  that  has  not  fuch 
lines  of  complaint  as  yours  ?  And  no  wonder,  when 
our  Head,  and  Lord  Redeemer  almofl:  dies  with  thein 
in  his  mouth.  Why  fhould  we  grudge  to  pledge  him 
in  that  bitter  cup,  whofe  foul  was  forrowful,  and  fore 
amazed  r  Can  our  jealoufy  argue  a  dereliction,  m.ore 
than  his  ?  Are'not  the  gifts  and  callings  of  God  with- 
out repentance  ?  If  your  foul  has  not  been  touched 
with  the  true  loadllone/'jwhat  makes  it  (land  trembling 
towards  Us  beloved  point  ?•  Is  not  love  in  defire,  and 

lamenting. 


^4^  Memoirs  of 

lamenting  after  its  object,  as  truly  love,  as  when  refl- 
ing  in  the  enjoyment  ?  If  you  find  much  drofs  in  your 
belf  gold,  will  you  throw  away  both  together  ?  Or 
would  you  change  with  one  w^ho  hopes  without  trial  r 
I  find  it  a  Irequent  artifice  of  the  old  Serpent,  when 
upon  ferious  fearch,  I  hf.ve  found  fin  in  my  heart,  that 
did  not  difcover  itfelf  upon  tranfient  inquiries,  to  be 
very  ready  to  perfuade  me  there  was  nothing  elfe  to 
be  found  there.  I  blefs  God,  I  can  at  prefent  be- 
lieve he  lies  ;  but  how  long  I  Ihall  believe  fo,  I  know 
not,  for,  alas  !  I  have  fomc  gloomy  days  as  well  as 
others,  efpecially  under  bodily  languors.  I  doubt  not 
that  you  addrefs  yourfelf  to  fp.iritual  phyficians,  un- 
der your  "prefent  maladies..  Blefled  be  God,  you  have 
many  fkilful  and  faithful  ones.  Search  not  without 
their  help  ;  and  may  God  fend  you  a  Meflenger,  one 
ot  a  thoufand,  who  may  Ihew  you  your  uprightnefs. 
I  know  that  He  only  who  creaies  the  fruit  of  the  lip?, 
Peacey  can  make  your  help  confolatory  ;  yet  wait  in 
the  way  of  infiituted  nieans  ;  and  remember  it  was 
but  a  VittU  further  [Cant.  3,  4.)  that  the  drowfy  fpoufe 
went  in  her  fearch,  ere  ^Ihe  found,  her  (lighted  and 
grieved  beloved.  I  trufl:  your  prefent  temptations  to 
throw  away  your  hope  will  not  prevail.  Howev- 
er, think  not  of  thro vv- ing  ofFduty,  efpecially  yourat- 
tendance  on  thnt  comfortable,  fealing  ordinance,  the 
Lord's  Supper,  which  I  have  reafon  to  recommend 
to  all  my  afflicted,  tempted  friends,  fince  I  find  it  ao 
fmall  mei-cy  to  go  and  renew  my  former  covenant  \ 
or,  if  I  cannot  find  my  fidelity  therein,  to  make  it  a- 
new  ;  for  furely  God  doth  ther«  renew  his  covenant 
with  every. fallen  child  of  Adam  who  heartily  con- 
fents,  though  he  cannot  perfedly  reach  the  terms  ac- 
cording to  his  defire.  It  former  ftated  times  of  com- 
municating afford  you  not  a  fufncient  fupport,  be  more 
frequent,  fince  every  Lord's  day  gives  you  an  oppor- 
pcrtunity  in  the  city.  Remember,  my  dear  difconfc- 
late  grandmother  waited  long  at  thefe  waters,  thougii 


Mrs. Elizabeth  Bury.  543 

^Ith  forrow  complaining  they  were  to  her  a  fealed 
fountain  ;  yet  her  dutiful  attendance  ended  in  a  tri- 
iimphant  death.  Before  that  period,  I  hope  to  hear 
you  are  emerging  from  under  the  waves  that  now  o- 
verwheim  you  :  and  by'that  time,  you  may  be  'ready 
to  fcrengtlien  weak  hands,  from  more  glorious  appear- 
TiUces  of 'God  to  your  foul.  -I  beg  that  the  God  of 
all  confolation  would  fhine  on  the  graces  he  has 
wrought  in  you,  and  will  by  his  own  methods  perfe6i: 
in  your  foul*  -,  that,  when  he  has  tried  you,  you  may 
<:ome  forth  as  gold,  and  meet  for  the  inheritance  of  the 
faints  in  light,  where  no  doubt  of  God's  love  to  you, 
or  of  yours  to  him,  will  break  your  peace  or  inter' 
xupt  your  joy  more. 


Letter  VH.     , 

Cautions  agarnfi  fpirltuaJ  declenfians, 
-A  declining  ftatc  is  incident  to  the  bcft,  anci 


therefore  to  be  feared  by  ail.  How  Ihame fully  have 
fomc  of  our  acquaintance  ftained  their  families,  and 
whither  have  their  gradual  declenficns  brought  them 
at  lad  \  I  know  there  are  many  who  alTert  a  total  apof- 
tacy  from  true  grace  ;  but  you  and  1  have  been  taught 
"better,  and  can  comfortably  conclude  from  God's  tm- 
changeable  love,  decree,  and  almighty  power  engaged 
for  perfeverance,  and  from  our  union  withChrift,  and 
his  conftant  intercefTion  for  us,  that  the  hah'its  of  true 
grace  cannot  be  lod.  But  alas  !  what  abatemeiits  may 
there  be  in  the  degrees  and  exercife,  in  the  life  and 
ftrength  of  it  !  And  how  fad  and  deplorable  is  fuch  a 
cafe  !  Who  can  but  pity  a  robuft  body  reduced  to  a 
fkeleton  by  a  pining  confumption  ?  And  is  lefs  pity- 
due  to  fouls  declining  in  their  graces,  when  ardent 
love,  ftrongderires,humbleft  mournings,  livelieft  joys, 
are  all  withering,  or  choked  with  a  confluence  ot 
'  worldly 


344  Memoirs  op 

worldly  cares,  or  pleafiires  ?    Ah  !  the  fadnefs  of  this 
flate  !    May  I  never  weep  over  any  of  my  dear  rela^ 
tions  in  fuch  a  cafe  !    The  befl:  are  apt  to  decline  in 
duty,  in  their  love  and  affedion  to  it,  and  fometimes 
find  a  fad  diilance  from  God,   an  eflrangement  from 
him,  and  a  fhinefs  of  him  in  prayer,  which  yetbefore 
has  been  the  delight  and  relief  of  their  fouls.    Surely,, 
retraining  prayer  is  a  very  fad  mark  ;    and  when  our 
hearts  do  not  joyfully  anfwer  the  call  of  God   to  fetk 
his  face.     And  it  is  little  better,  when  our  wandering 
fpirits  are  not  watched, called  in, and  made  to  ply  their 
work,  but  flies  light  upon  the    facrifice  that   ufed  to 
flame.     Nay,  if  only  our  cheerfulnefs  in  duty  fiiould 
abate,  hov/  heavily  fliall  we  drive  !   If  what  was  once 
our  delight,  becomes  our  talk  and  burden  ;  if  after  du- 
ty there  is  no  advantage  gained,  no  greater  nearnefs  to 
God,  no  fuller  refolutions,  no   humbler   re{]gna|ionSp 
how  weary  fhall  we  quickly  be  of  our  choiceft  happi- 
nefs,  for  the  enjoyment  of  feme  inferior  good,  or  what 
is  worfe,  fome  foul  corruption,  which  our  treacherous 
hearts  have  fecretly  fallen  in  love  with,  while  yet  we 
profefs  to  he  entirely  the  Lord's.   Thcreare  in  the  heft, 
fuch  remainders  of  fm,  as  e\'er   incline  to  apoftafy  ; 
for  none  are  fo  completely  fan£lified,  but  the   flefh  is 
flill  lufting  againll  the  fpirit  ;    and   in-dvv?eliing  fm  is 
an  aftive  principle,  very  im»portunale,   and  not  eafily 
to  be  denied.     The  temptations,  too,  of  Satan  are  al- 
ways  aflaulting,    and   our    own  corruptions  are  ever 
ready  to  fide  with  them.     Yea,  and  God's  jufl  defer- 
lions  often  concur  ;   for  though  he  does  not  withdraw 
his  love  and  care,  yet   for  our  neglects,  he  often  may 
and  does  fufpend  his  influence  and  adlftance  :  and  then 
what  are  we  r — Let  me  entreat  you  not  to   lofe    thefe 
hafty  lines  till  you  have  triedyourprefent  cafe, whether 
you  are  growing  or  declining.       If  grace  withers,  fo, 
1  am  fure,  muft  comfort.      If  this  be  your  condition, 
remember  whence  you  are  fallen,  and  repent,  and  do 
your  fird  works,  and  lay  hold  afrefh  on  the  great  Re- 
deemer, 


Mrs.  Elizabeth  Buuv.  345 

deemer.   If  your  cafe  be  better,  blcfs  God,  and  rejoice 
my  foul  by  letting  mc  know  it. 

Letter  Mil. 

Cautions  to  a  friend  ci  the  fuhjecl  of  marriage, 

It  is  very  odd,   that  when  you  afk  rny  opinion 

in  the  matter  propofcd,  you  only  give  me  an  account 
of  the  gentleman's  circumjlarices,  and  not  of  his  char- 
f^er.  So  far  as  I  know,  I  mud  freely  own,  that  I 
fear  the  ellate  Is  loo  great,  and  likely  to  prove  a  fnare 
to  you.  Bifhop  Hall  affirms,  that  riches  have  made 
many  ixjorfe,  but  never  any  better.  I  hope  you  would 
choofe  to  be  better,  rather  than  richer,  and  that  you 
■will,  never  be  biaiTed  by  an  elhte,  to  an  indifferent 
choice.  You  know  I  have  ever  cautioned  you,  and 
mufl:  caution  you  ftlll,  againil  too  great  a  fondnefs  for 
wealth.  Alas  !  ihould  you  have  it,  hov/  many  things; 
may  imbitter  it  to  you  !  Should  you  have  a  churlilh 
Nahal,  and  you  could  only  behold  your  riches  witfi 
your  eye?,  and  not  be  fufTered  to  do  any  good  with 
them,  how  imep.fy  would  that  be  to  your  charitable, 
generous  mind  !  Gr  Ihould  your  partner's  temper  bj 
good,  yet  if  debts,  or  provifion  for  younger  children, 
ihould  cripple  a  man's  eflate,  it  is  but  the  name,  and 
not  the  thing  which  you  enjoy.  But  if  neither  of  thefe 
difagrecables  fhoukl  happen,  yet  may  not  worfe  ? 
Suppofing  there  is  no  piety,  no  ardent  devotion  inyour 
hufband,  but  an  averfion  againft  your  attendance  011 
private  altars,  where  yon  have  found  more  than  all 
tliis  world  can  afford  you,  what  perplexity  are  you 
then  tied  to  for  life.'  —  I  know  what  troubles  you  have 
met  with,  but  might  you  not  by  avoiding  pielent, 
plunge  yourfelf  into  future difHculties  ?  It  is  betfer  to 
be  miifcrable  by  neceflity,  than  choice.  What  evil 
(jod  infli6^s,is  more  eafily  borne, than  that  which  v/e 
bring  upon  oUrfelves-.  Let  me  eiitreat  you  to  mode- 
rate your  defircs  after  worldly  grandeur.  Pardon  mjr 
F  f  freedom. 


34^  'Memoirs  qp 

freedom;     If  I  am  apt  to  be  too  jealous  of  you,  iti$ 
^ecaufe  I  love  you. 

Letter  IX. 

On  the  death  of  a  good  lady  and  friend, 

I  am  heartily  concerned  for  the  country's  lofs,  and 
my  own,  of  that  excellent  lady  ;  and  condole  you  ef- 
pecially,who  had  the  honor  of  her  friendlhip  as  much, 
I  believe,  as  could  confift  with  the  inequality  of  your 
ftations  in  the  world  ;  and  her  goodnefs  condefcended 
more  than  is  ufual,  even  in  ladies  of  piety.  A  friend 
"wife,  pious,  compafTionate^fecretj&c.  is  a  rarity  while 
enjoyed,  and  a  lofs  feldom  repaired  in  this  world. 
But  b  what  a  friend  is  our  dear  Redeemer  1  He  is  not 
limited  to  one  or  a  few,  like  our  contracted  minds, 
but  condefcends  to  the  title  and  offices  of  a  friend,  to 
all  his  faithful  followers,  i  am  thankful  for  the  taftes 
of  his  goodnefs  in  creature  friendfhip  ;  but  in  its  ut- 
Vnoft  perfe6tion,it  is  but  a  faint  fliadow  of  the  divine, 
:?.nd  of  what  I  find  in  my  eternal  Lover  and  Friend, 
the  Lord  Jefus'Chriil,  whofe  friendfhip  has  not  the 
difparagement  which  all  creature  enjoyments  have,  of 
-Jjeing  but  a  fhort  and  uncertain  pleafure. 

Letter  X. 

On  a  tradef man's  cafttng  up  his  ficp, 

*— Since  you  feem  to  be  plea  fed  with  any  of  my 

icrawls,  I  will  give  you  a  fhort  hiftory  of  what  has 
jjafTed  with  us  this  Chriftmas.  You  remember  I  now 
Jive  with  a  tradefman  called  a  milliner  ;  I  fuppofe, 
from  the  multitude  of  things  which  fuch  ordinarily 
Trade  in,*  efpecially  in  the  country.      It  is  a  prudent- 

and 
V"  7/v  Latin  wordj  miWCfJignifss  a  ihoufand-. 


Mrs.  Elizabeth  BuRr.  347 

atid  laudable  cuftom  with  liim  to  cafl:  up  his  (liop  gen- 
erally once  in  the  year.      1  love  not  to  be  ignorant  of 
any  thing  that  falls  in  my  way  without  trouble  ;    and 
therefore  to  divert  my  mind,  I  have  fometimes  engag- 
ed with  him  in  fome  'little  part  of  this  pleafant  fatigue, 
the  whole  of  which  is  a  thorough  fcrutiny  into  all  that 
has  been  bought  and  fold,  what  has  been  gained  by  it, 
and  what  remains.       In  order  to  this,  abundance    of 
files  of  bills,  letters  and  receipts,   befide  books,  were 
to  be  examined  :  but  my  province  was  only  to   affill 
in  meafuring,  and  to  write  on  every  piece  after  it  was 
meafured,  what  it  contained.     The  trial  of  gains  was 
left  to  themfelves,  and  occupied  them  night  and  day  v 
and  every  one  was  cheerful  and  pleafant  at  the   con- 
clufion.     I  cxpoftulatcd  >vith  my  landlord  on  the  un- 
neceffary  trouble  of  this,    for  one  who  had  no  rcafon 
to  fufped  his  circumftances,    but  was   anfwered    by 
him,  that  befide  the  pleafure  of  proving  it,  bis  future 
trade  could  not  be  fo  fuccefsful,   eafy   and    beautiful^ 
-without  this  exaanination.  The  fale  of  what  had  been 
bought  direds  to  what  is  beil  to  be  bought  again,  by 
difcovering  what  had  been  fold  to  the  beft  advantage. 
What  had^been  mifplaced,  is  now  put  in  order  again, 
and  readily  found.     Befides,  the  gain  made  a  recom- 
pcnfe  for  tlie  trouble,  and  was  a  help  to  thankfulnefs. 
—Now,  my  dear  friend,    if  we  are  fo  wife  as  to  this 
world,  why  flibuld  we  be  fo  weak  for  the  other  ?  And 
yet  how  few  are  there,  who  with  the  like  unwearied 
diligence,  dexterity  and  cheerfulnefs,  call  up  in  their 
fpiritual  traffic  1     I  blu(h  at  my  own  floth  and    folly, 
and  endeavor  to  commend    hcart-examlnailcn    to   my 
thoughts  for  my  Chriftmds  employment.     The  refuit 
of  alTmy  landlord's  trouble  aiilires  him  he  has  gained 
by  his  laft  year's  trade,  but  can  give  him   only   fome 
probable  conje61:ures  how  he  may    thrive   the    next  ; 
together  with  many  fears  of  lofmg  by    fome  unfafh- 
ionable  goods,  which  he  looks  upon  with  heavy  fighs,^ 
But  if,  upon  ferious  fearch,  I  can  find  I  have  gained- 

any 


J4^  IMemoirs  o? 

any  true  grace,  I  am  I'ure  of  its  increafe,  and  that  ft 
can  never  be  lo(t^  or  become  ufelefs.  May  1  but  find 
grace  as  a  grain  ot  raullard-feed,  I .  can  faftly  con- 
clude it  will  grow  up  to  a  tree.  The  path  of  the  jufl, 
as  the  Ihining  light,  will  ihine  more  and  more  to  the 
peric'6l  day.  If  I  iigh  over  the  weaknefs  of  my  grace, 
1  am  yet  encouraged,  when  I  read^the  encomiums  of 
my  compailionate  Redeemer  on  the  weak  faith  of  ma- 
ny who  addreilcd  him  in  the  days  of  his  Ifefh.  There- 
fore, my  good  friend,  let  us  call  in  the  afliftance  of 
otiiers,  and  diligently  fearch  our  hearts  and  ways,  and 
follow  it  to  a  comjbrtable  conclrificn,  and  then  my. 
diverfion  may  be  ufeful  to  myfelf  and  you. — — 

Letter  XL 

On  the  death  cf  a  Si  fur. 

~ 1  thought  I    could  have    parted  with  a    CiRer 

"vvith  icTs  difcompofure  than  I  ffrid  I  can.  I  hoped 
that  death  would  not  have  begun  at  the  wrong  end  of 
the  regiiler-book  :  but  ihey  are  feniors  in  the  beR- 
fenfe,  who  have  fooneft  done  their  work,  and  are  firft 
iit  for  glory.  Though  1  could  not  without  tears  have 
})arted  with  a  filler  to  any  diitant  country  on  earth, 
though  it  had  been  to  her  advantage,  yet  reafon  would 
have  blamed,  and  foon  overcome,  iuch'a  fond  and  fool- 
iih  paffion.  Surely  then  religion  Ihould  not  only  do 
no  lefs,  but  even  more  ;  cfpecially  as  my  lifter  is  in  a 
iar  higher  and  happier  preferment  than  all  this  world 
can  pretend  to  offer.  Our  a1l-wife  Creator  f.rfc  form-,, 
ed  our  raalTy  lump,  and  then  infp'ired  it  :  and  when 
he  is  pleafed  to  dilfblve  the  compofJiim^  it  is  nor  that 
either  of  the  conlliluent  parts  fliould  be 'deRrovi-rl.. 
But  the  diifoluiion  as  to  the  righteous,  with  regar.'  'o 
theiry'o'w/j-,  is  immediate  ^/jrj;  and  with  regard  to 
their  bodie:.,  but  a  refining  in  order  to  a  reunion.  Th-3 
oifaken  maafi-oa  is  iiidged  a  melancholy  object^,   nnd 

it 


Mrs.  Elizabeth  Bury.  345 

It  is  very  affe6ling  to  clofe  the  dear  eyes  that  were 
wont  to  delight  us  with  their  lllent  rhetoric  :  but  we 
more  than  water  the  body  Town  in  dufl,  while  wc  dim 
our  profpe6t  of  the  glory  of  our  friends  who  have  died- 
in  the  Lord.  Why  lliould  I  wifli  the  foul  in  this  body 
ftill,  merely  to  fay,  I  have  a  filter  in  fuch  a  place? 
What  if  heaven,  where  flie  is,  is  farther  off  ?  I  am' 
fure,  as  that  is  more  fuitable,  fo  it  ought  to  be  nearer, 
to  my  immortal  part.  And  may  I  not  ftill  have  com- 
munion with  her,  and  with  the  glorious  company  ihti 
keeps,  by  loving,  praifing,  admiring  and  adoring  the~ 
fame  God,  though  I  am  yet  on  earth  ?  May  1  not  re- 
joice in  the  thought  of  meeting  her  among  the  fpirits 
of  the  juft  m-ade  perfed  ?  Surely  they  have  more  cou- 
rage, better  fuccefs,  or  lefs  difficulty  than  I,  who  can 
Willi  the  fpiritual  war  protradcd  :— but  (lie  has  palled 
the  pikes,  O  happy  foul  •  Her  body  is  indeed  fown  in- 
corruption,  :  it  cannot  defend  itfelf  from  worms,  and 
is  at  prefent  putrifying  and  ioathfome:  but  it  will  not 
always  be  fo.''  If  the  innate  defires  of  reunion^  could 
notperfuade  me  of  a  re  furred  ion,  yet  the  inialiible 
word  of  God  has  aiTured  me  of  it  ;  and  that  it  Ihall  a- 
tife,  not  as  it  was  fov/n,  anaturaland  fJuggifli  body, 
but  agile  and  fprightly,  and  fit  to  ferve  its  fuperioc 
and  Vigorous  foul.  It  is  a  pleafure  to  me,  fometimes, 
to  think  of  the  luftre  and  adtiviiy  of  glorified  bodies, 
which  reft  not  either  day  or  night,  nor  fufFer  any  de- 
cays, imperfedlions,  paufes  or  interrupiions  in  theic 
high  and  happy  employments.  Br;  the  greateli  pjeaf- 
ure  of  all  is,  to'  think  of  being/jr  ever  with  the  Lord.. 

Letter  XII. 

To  a  friend  under  great  afflUfionsy  and  fpiritucd  fears ,- 

I  cannot  forget  my  prcmlfes  of  praying  lor  you,, 
and  writing  to  you.  I"  daily  attempt  the  one,  and  vvilb 
J  could  perform  it  better  ;    and  Si   to   the   other,    B 


j5'C>  Memoirs-  o? 

jfhould  rejoice  if  my  pen  could  afTif!:  your  faith  and  ps-- 
tience  under  the  fmarting  rod  of  (I  hope  I  may  fay) 
your  heavenly  Father  ;  for  fo  it  may  be,  though  ac- 
companied with  angry  frowns.  It  is  true, afflictions 
in  themfelves  cannot  be  proofs  of  fonlhip  :  but  wg 
are  fully  afiured  by  the  facred  Scriptures,  that  thefor- 
eil  trials  are  very  confiftent  with  that  privilege.  The 
experience  of  many  of  God's  favorites  confirms  it». 
AH  the  promifes  of  fupport  under,  benefit  by,  and  de- 
liverance from  fuch  troubles  fuppofe  it.  Yet  our  fouls 
are  too  apt  to  mifconilrue  fatherly  chaftifements  into 
the  revenges  of  an  enemy,  or  to  think  there  is  more 
anger  than  love  in  them,  and  to  murmur  that  they  are 
fo  long  and  heavy.  But  the  all-wife  Father  of  fpiriis 
cannot  miftake  in  meafuring,  timing  and  appointing 
his  methods  of  healing  fouls.  If  guilt  makes  you  fear 
his  wrath,  rather  than  taRe  his  love,  in  your  afflic- 
tions, you  fliouid  caft  your  guilty  foul  upon  him  for 
promifed  red,  and  may  well  be  alfured  that  God  will 
not  ex  a  cl;  the  debt  from  the  ofl'ender  and  the  furetytoo, 
T\y  daily  to  that  refuge,  that  furc  hope,  that  juitify- 
ing  righteoufnefs,  and  then  you  will  find  no  fury  in 
God,  however  grievous  youraffli6lions  are.  You  have 
liberty  to  pray  for  pity  and  help,  as  well  as  David, 
who  w^hen  he  had  aching  bones,  had  a  fenfe  of  guilt 
alfo,  even  of  fcandalous  fins.  If  your  own,' or  the 
cries  of  others  for  you,  feem  to  be  yet  unheard,  it  may 
be  1  ur  miftake  to  urge  for  prefent  eafe,  without  a  duo^ 
refpeCt  to  future  cdre.  Sin  is  the  worft  difeafe.  It3 
cure  is  to  be  fought,  though  by  the  roughefl:  methods,. 
The  children  of  God  are  agreed  in  this,  and  yet  can 
fcarce  fubmit  the  means  to  the  infallible  Phyfician. 
Though  we  can  truft  a  furgeon  to  apply  a  cauftic,- 
though  o^  lapis  infernalis,  and  let  it  lie  his  time,  ii* 
there  be  any  hope  of  a  cure,  yet  how  hardly  can  we 
fubmit  on  higher  reafon,  furer  hope,  or  happier  expe- 
rience, to  him  whofe  word  of  truth  alfures  uif  that 
every  thing  he  does  fliall  do  us  good,  and  both  purge 

away 


Mrs.  Elizabeth  Bury,  351 

awav  our  fins,  and  make  us  partakers  of  his  holinefs  ! 
I  muft  confefs  thefe  lines  upbraid  my  own  foolifh 
choice,  oftentim.es,  for  myfelf  and  my  friends.  I^ut 
I  pray  and  wait  for  better  fubniilTion  to  the  heaviefl 
flrokes,  either  on  myfelf  or  them. ' 

Lelter  XIIL 

Various  difpevfations  of  Providence  argued  and  jujiijied, 

• 1  have  been  long  your  debtor  for  a  very  kind 

and  comfortable  letter,  which  cam.e  feafonably  to  hand, 
as  I  was  groaning  under  great  pain,  and  fympathiz- 
ing  with  others  under  bitter  affliction.  Since  then, 
I  blefs  God,  I  have  feen  brighter  days  ;  but  clouds 
have  returned  after  rain,  upon  others.  And  may  not 
all  this,  put  together,  commend  the  variegated  difpen- 
fations  of  Providence  ?  Had  all  our  days  been  halcyon, 
would  theyliavc  been  fo  fafe  or  ufeful  ?  Had  all  been 
fable,  how  difcon folate  1  Were  all  the  children  in  e- 
qual  fmart  under  the  rod  together,  we  fhculd  be  too 
ready  to  make  fome  unworthy  retle6lions  on  the  all- 
wife  difcipline.  Were  not  all  alternately  fo,  we  fliould 
be  ready  to  fufpedl  their  fonfhip.  O  the  depth  of 
-wifdom,  which  poor  (hallow  mortals  can  never  fathom! 
Yet  how  proud  and  peevifn  are  we  when  any  thing  is 
denied  at  our  own  time,  vvhich  we  fancy  to  be  good 
for  us  !  Had  I  been  always  well  and  at  eafe,  how  chill 
a  fympathy  Ihould  I  have  had  with  the  dear  affli6led 
members  of  Chriil  !  Had  you  never  been  fo,  I  had 
wanted  your  experitnental  confolalions.  Now  if  the 
brief  hints  of  this  beautiful  variety  in  the  difpenfations 
of  Providence  can  afford  us  fuch  pleafure  here,  how 
bright  and  glorious,how  fweetand  ravifhing  will  they 
appear,  when  unfolded  in  eternal  glory  !  And  why 
Ihould  I  be  impatient  of,  or  fear,  the  darkeft  fcenc 
that  Ihall  end  in  the  brighteft  glory  ?  Yet  vnth  fhame 
and  forrow  I  coufefs,  the  fear  of  what  1.  may  feel  has 
*  been 


2^2"  Memoirs  o^ 

been  as  afflictive  to  me  as  mofl:  I  have  felt  :  anJ' 
this  even  when  I  have  found  a  good  hope  of 
an  interefl  in  God,  and  after  ^  a  thoufand  expe^ 
riences  of  his  never-failing  compaflions  confuting  my 
guilty  fears.  This  childiQi,  or  rather  un-chiid-like 
temper,  I  think  increafes  with  years,  and  is  partly  oc- 
cafioned  by  frequent  and  clofe  converfe  with  many 
of  my  fuperiors  in  grace  under  bitter  affli6lions, 
living  and  dying  :  and  when  I  fee  what  is  done  to  ths 
green  trees,  I  am  apt  to  run  into  an  excefs  of  fear 
what  fhall  be  done  to  the  dry.  Fain  would  I  cherifh 
an  awful,  while  I  fubdue  a  flaviih  fear  :  but  this  I 
cannot  do  of  myfelf,  and  therefore  beg  it  of  the  Goi^ 
stf  all  grace,  in  which  I  crave  your  ailiftance. 


Jn  Elegy  on  the  death  of  Mrs.  Bury, 
BY  Dr.  ¥/att£. 


She  must  ascend :  her  treasure  lies  on  high, 
And  there  her  heart  is.     Bear  her  through  the  sky^ 
On  wings  of  harmony j  ye  sons  of  lights 
And  with  surrounding  shields  protect  her  flight. 
Teach  her  the  wondrous  songs  yourselves  compose 
For  your  bright  world  :  she'll  learn  them  as  she  gees 
The  sense  was  known  before  :  those  sacred  themes y 
The  God,  the  Savior,  and  the-fiowing'streams 
That  ting'd  the  cursed  tre-e  with  blood  divine. 
Purchased  a  heav'n  and  wash'd  a  world  from  sin  »* 
The  beams,  the  bliss,  the  visions  of  that  place 
Where  the  whole  Godhead  shines  in  mildest  grace,  ■ 
These  are  the  notes  for  luhich  your  harps  are  stru?Tg  : 
These  were  the  Joy  and  labor  of  her  tongue. 
In  our  dark  regions  :  these  exalted  strains 
Brought  paradise  to  curtkj  and  sooth' d  her  pains. 

Souls 


Mrs.  Elizabeth  Bury.  353 

Souls  made  of  pious  harmony  and  love 
Gan  be  no  strangers  to  their  work  above. 

But  must  we  lose  her  henc£  ?  The  muse  in  pain 
Regrets  her  flight,  and  calls  the  saint  again. 
**  iitay,  gentle  spirit  stay.      Can  nature  find 
**  No  charms  to  hold  the  once  unfettered  mind  ? 
**  Alust  all  these  virtues,  all  these  graces  soar 
**  Far  from  our  sight,  and  bless  the  earth  no  more  P 
**  A4ust  the  fair  saint  to  tvorids  immortal  climb, 
*■•  -Forever  lost  to  all  the  sons  of  time  .^" 
O  no  ;  she  is  not  lost,  hehotd  her  here. 
FIozu  jufi  the  form  !  how  soft  the  lines  appear  ! 
The  features  of  her  sohI  without  disguise, 
Drawn  by  her  own  blest  pen  !  a  szueet  surprise 
To  mourning  friends.      The  partner  of  her  cares 
i^eizd  the  fair  piece,  and  wash'-d  it  o'er  with  tears f, 
Dress'd  it  in  flow' rs,  then  hung  it  on  her  urn, 
A  pattern  for  her  sex  In  ages  yet  unborn. 

Daughters  cfEvG,  come  trace  these  heavenly  lines  7 
Feel  zuith  what  powr  the  bright  example  shines. 
She  was  -what  you  should  be,     Toung  virgins,  come^ 
Drop  a  kind  trar,  and  dress  you  at  her  tomb. 
Gay  silks  and  diamonds^^  arc  a  vulgar  road  ; 
Her  radiant  wrlues  should  create  the  mode. 
Matrons,  attend  her  hearse  luith  thoughts  refind. 
Gaze  and  transcribe  the  beauties  of  her  mind. 
An'!  let  her  live  in  joU.^     The  meek,  the  great. 
The  cheisfe,  yet  fne .  the  cht'erfv! ; yet  sedate, 
Sivift  toforgi<v'eriess;-bi'.t  to  anger  s^ow, 
/1v/  yJti)  ■-'?  ^"  ■•■'^''  -    yet  averse  to' show, 

■  that  rurely  join, 
',  -lu  ..;, ;  ^\^ '  aces  and  divine 

Reign  d  east'i  and  held  a  pleanng  strife, ' 

•7 -'-'...;' V,.  .;  ^   '  y  :}y' f ting  "scene  of  v-orim'.s  life. 
The  uv: id,  the  bride i  the  wido-wand  the  wife. 

Nor  need  a  manly  spirit  blush  to  gain  ■ 
£xi'.lted  thoughts  from  her  superior  vein, 

Atteml^ 


■} 


^^^4  Memoirs  of  " 

Attend  her  hints,  ye  sages  of  the  schools, 

And  by  her  nobler  practice  frame  your  rules  ^ 

Let  her  inform  you  to  address  the  ear 

With  conquering  suasioHy  or  reproof  severe. 

And  still  without  offence,      Thrice  happy  soul  f 

That  could  our  passions,  and  her  own  control, 

Could  wield  and  govern  that  unruly  train. 

Sense,  fancy i  pleasure,  fear ^  grief,  hope  and p am  / 

And  live  sublimely  good  !  Behold  her  move 

Through  earth's  rude  scenes,  yet  point  her  thoughts  abovf^ 

Seraphs  on  earth  pant  for  their  native  skies, 

And  nati>re  feels  it  painful  not  to  rise. 

Jt^e  venerable  tribes  of  holy  men, 
Read  the  devotions  of  her  heart  and  pen  : 
And  learn  to  pray  and  die,     Burissa  knew 
To  piake  life  happy,  and  resign  it  too. 
The  soul  that  oft  had  walk'd  th'  e  the  rial  road, 
Fleas' d  with  her  summons,  took  her  farewell  flight  to  Godr 

But  ne'er  shall  words,  or  lines,  or  colors  paint 
Th'  immortal  passions  of  th'  expiring  saint. 
What  beams  of  joy,  angelic  airs,  arise 
O'er  her  pale  cheeks,  and  sparkle  in  her  eyes. 
In  that  dark  hour  I  Hew  all  serene  she  lay 
Beneath  the  openings  of  celestial  day  ! 
Her  soul  retires  from  sense,  refines  from  sin^  ■ 
While  the  descending  glory  wrought  within  / 
Then  in  a  sacred  calm  resign  d  her  breath 
And,  as  her  eye-lids  clos'd,  she  smiVd  in  deat^. 

O  may  some  pious  friend,  who  weeping  stands 
Near  my  last  pillow  with  uplifted  hands,  ^ 

Orzvipes  the  mortal  deiv  from  off  my  face, 
Witncfs  such  triumphs  in  my  soul,  and  trace  ' 
The  dawn  of  glory  in  my  dying  ?nien. 
While  on  my  lifeless  lips  such  heavenly  smiles  arc  seen,  - 


Mrs, 


Mrs.  Elizabeth  Rowe.  355 

Mrs.  ELIZABETH  ROWE, 


Ml 


,R*S.  Elizabeth  Rowe,  a  lady  not  more 
admired  by  the  world  for  her  writings,  than  eftetmed 
by  all  who  knew  her,  for  the  amiable  qualities  of  her 
heart,  was  born  at  Ilchefter,  in  Somerfetiliire,  Septem- 
ber I  r,  1674.  She  was  the  eldeft  of  three  daughters* 
of  Mr.  Walter  Singer.  Both  her  father  and  mother 
were  of  diftinguilhed  merit  and  piety.  The  occafion 
and  circumftances  of  their -fir if  acquaintance  werere- 
markablc.  Mr.  Singer  being  i:rjprifoned  at  Ilchefter 
for  his  nonconformity,  Mrs.  Singer,  then  Mifs  Port- 
nell,  being  an  inhabitant  of  the  town,  paid  him  a  vifit 
on  the  benevolent  principle  of  adminiftering.  confola- 
tion  to  thofe  who  were  fepa rated  from  their  friends, 
and  fuffering  for  the  fake  of  a  good  confcience.  This 
/he  did  repeatedly,  till  a  friendfhip  commenced,  which 
junited  them  for  life, 

Mr. 

*  One  tif  herfijiers  died  in  childhood.  The  other,  a 
young  lady  of  great  piety,  Jurvlved  to  her  tiventieth 
year.  Re  [petting  her  death,  the  following  remarkable 
circumflances  have  been  related. 

Elizabeth,  afterward  Mrs.  Rowe,  h/tng  danger ov. fly 
ill,  and  under  viftble  diftrefs  at  the  apprehenfton  of  up^ 
proaching  death,  her  Jijier,  objerving  it,  afied  her 
tendcrly\whether  Jhe  was  not  zvilling  to  die  ?  She  replied, 
that  fide  had  not  that  full  ofjurance  of  her  intereji  in 
Chrifl,  which  (he  had  alvjays  prayed  fe  might  have, 
.before  being  called  from  time.     Her  fifter  immediately 


35^  Memoirs  oy 

Mr.  Singer  happily  terminated  his  pious  and  iifefm 
life,  April  19,  1719.  In  a  memorandum  of  Mrs. 
Rowe,  relating  to  his  laft  ficknefs  flie  fays  ;  **  My 
father  often  felt  his  pulfe,  and  cpmplained  that  it  was 
flill  regujar,  but  fmiledat  every  fymptom  of  approach- 
ing death.  He  would  be  often  crying  out,  *<  Come, 
Lord  Jefus,  come  quickly  :  come,  ye  holy  angels,  that 
rejoice  at  the  converfion  of  a  fmner  ;  come  and  con- 
duct my  foul  to  the  Ikies,  ye  propitious  fpirits  :"  and 
then  would  add,  **  But  thy  time,  Lord,  not  mine,  is 

From  lier  earlieH:  years,  there  appeared  in  Mrs. 
Rowe  fomeihing  uRCommon :  a  dawnof  intelledual 

and 

fell  9n  her  knees,  andzvith  inexprfjjthle  fervor  entreated 
of  God,  that  if  her  father  nvjji  have  the  grief  of  burying 
one  of  his  daughters,  it  might  he  her  :  for  to  the  glory 
ef  his  free  grace,  fne  could  humbly  profefs  before  hi?n 
her  affured  hope  of  her  interejl  in  his  everlajiing  mercy 
through  fefus  Chrift.  She  could  therefore  joyfully  die, 
if  it  ?nigbt  pleafe  God  to  grant  herffier  a  further  f pace 
to  make  her  calling  ard  ekStion  Jure.  The  conjequence 
%vas  that  her  fifter  immediately  began  to  recover  ;  while 
jhe  fichened,  and  in  a  few  dcys,  died. 

Such  is  the  account.  Its  truth  isjorneivhat  quefiionahle. 
It  is  confidently  denied  by  Mr.  Grove,  one  0}  the  writers 
of  Mrs.  Rozue's  life  :  and  with  equal  confidence  afferted 
hy  the  biographer  of  Dr.  Cohiian  of  Bo/lon.  The  latter 
declares  that  the  Doctor  {who,  while  in  England,  zvas  n 
frequent  vifjant  at  Mr.  Si-ngers  and  intimately  acquaint 
edwith  his  furviijing .daughter ,)  related  the  anecdote  /, 
many  during  his  life,  and  left  it,  much  as  here  given^ 
among  his  papers,  at  his  deceafe.  Both  the  above  writers 
agree  in  one  rejnark,  in  which  they  will  prSably  be 
joined  by  every  judicious  reader  :  that  the  account,  if 
true,  affords  no  conclujive  argument  againjl  the  cany 
piety  of  Mrs.  Rowe, 


Mrs.  Elizabeth  IvO\ye.  357 

nnd  moral  excellence  which  her  f«iiure  day  amply  re- 
alized. The  precife  lime  v/hen  ihc  received  the  firil 
effectual  impreiiions  cf  religion,  does  not  appear. — 
Probably,  it  was  when  ihe  was  very  voung,  **  My 
infant  hands,"  (he  fays,  in  an  acldrcis  to  her  Maker, 
**  were  early  lifted  up  to  thee  ^  and  1  i'oi^'A  learned  to 
know  and  ackr.ov/ledge  ihe  God  of  my  fathers.' 

She  very  early  difcovered  a  tafte  for  painting.  She 
loved  the  pencil,  when  ihQ  had  fcarce  ftrength  and* 
ileadinefs  of  hand  to  guide  it.  Her  father  perceiving 
this  fondnefs,  furnilhed  her  an  inllrutior.  .  She  was 
like  wife  much  delighted  with  mniic,  crpecially  of  the 
grave  and  folemn  kind.  This  was  belt  fuitcd  to  the 
grandeur  of  her  feminienls.  and  tl:e  fublimity  of  lier 
devotion. 

But  her  ftrongeH:  inclination  was  to  poetry,  ikr 
very  profe  had  the  charms  of  verfe  without  its  letters  ; 
the  fame  fire  and  elevation,  the  fame  boldnefs  of  fig- 
ures, the  fam.e  richnefs  of  imagery  and  di6lion.  She 
fcarce  wrote  a  letter,  but  it  betrayed  the  poet.  At 
tv/elve  ve'^rs  old,  flie  began  to  write  veifes.  In  the 
year  i6q6,  the  twenty-fecond  of  her  age,  a  colleGtiion 
of  her  poems  on  various  orcafions  was,  at  the  dcfiie 
of  her  friends,  given  to  the  world. 

Though  many  of  thefe  poems  are  of  the  relictions 
kind,  and  all  of  them  confjftent  v/ith  the  ftri^left  re- 
gard to  virtue,  yet  fome  things  in  them  gave  her  un- 
eafinefs  in  advanced  life.  So  quick  was  her  moral 
feeling,  that  what  fhe  could  not  politively  approve, 
appeared  unpardonable  ;  and- not  fatisiiedto  have-done 
i:othing  that  injured  the  caui'e  of  virtue,  ihe  was  dif- 
pleafed  with  herfelf  for  having  wrirten  any  thing  that 
did  not  directly  promote  it. 

She  was  firfl  introduced  to  the  notice  of  Lord  Wey- 
mouth's faniily  by  a  little  copy  of  verfes,  with  which 
they  were  fo  delighted,  as  to  be  curious  to  fedhe 
writer.  In  this  way  commenced  a  friendfiiip  which 
lubGrted  ever  after;  not  more  to  the  honor  of  hir 
G  g  mciit, 


'^^S  IMemoirs  op 

merit,  than  of  their  difcernment  and  tafte.  She  was 
not  then  twenty  years  of  age.  Her  paraphrafe  of  the 
■thirty-eighth  chapter  of  Job  was  written  at  the  requeft 
of  Bilhop  Ken,  who  was  at  that  time  hi  the  family, 
and  gained  her  much  reputation- 
She  had  no  other  inftriKflor  in  the  French  and  Italian 
languages,  than  the  Hon.  Mr.  Thynne,  fon  of  Lord 
-Weymouth,  who  willingly  alTumed  and  executed  that 
tafk,  and  had  the  pleafure  to  fee  his  amiable  pupil  im- 
prove fo  favl  under  his  kffons,  that  in  a  few  months- 
Ihe  was  able  to  read  Tajfo's  Jerufalem  with  great  eafe. 
In  the  year  17  lo,  fhc  was  married  to  Mr.  Thomas 
Rovre,  fon  of  a  nonconformift  minifter  of  refpcclable 
family.  This  young  gentleman  (for  he  was  but  about 
twenty-three  when  he  married)  poffefied  a  fine  under- 
Ttanding,  amply  improved  by  learning.  He  was  ai 
perfetl:  m.afler  of  the  Latin,  Greek  and  French  lan- 
guages. He  had  at  once  a  prodigious  ftrength  ol' 
memory,  and  an  inexhauftible  fund  of  wit.  Thefe, 
with  a  frank  and  benevolent  difpolition,  a  readinefs  to 
communicate  of  his  learned  {i:ore,  and  a  great  fluency 
of  expreliion,  caufed  his  coiTipany  to:be  univcrfally 
'Coveted  and  prized.  He  formed  a  defign  to  compile 
the  lives  of  all  the  llhillrious  perfons  oi  antiquity  o- 
-mitted  byPlutrach  ;  and  in  part  executed  it.  Eight 
of  the  lives  were  publiflieJ  after  his  deceafe,  and  do 
honor  to  his  memory. 

Mr.  Rowe  had  a  heart  to  value  the  treafare  which 
Provide!ice  had  given  him  in  a  woman  of  fuch  amia- 
ble qualities  and  exalted  merit.  It  was  his  conftant 
ftudy  to  repavthe  happinefs  fne  gave.  His  efteem  and 
.tsndernefs  for  her  were  inexpre(iible,and  could  be  e- 
quailed  only  by  the  delicate  and  ardent  attachm.eiit 
with  which  they  were  returned. 

His  conftitution  was  not  naturally  robufl:  and  for 
feveral  of  his  lall:  years,  was  much  impaired  by  intenfo 
application  to  Rudy.      After  a  confinement  of  forn.9 

-monihs, 


Mrs.  Elizabeth  Ro we.  35^ 

Qiofiths,  lie  died  of  a  confumpUon,  at  the  age  of  twen- 
ty-eight. 

Mrs.  Rowe  has  commemorated  her  very  tender  af- 
fetlion  for  him,  and  the  exqiiifite  happinefs  whicll- 
had  attended  their  fhort  union,  in  an  elegy  written  on 
•bis  death.  Nor  could  flie  prevail  on  herfelf  to  pafs 
an  aniilverfary  of  that  heart-rending  event,  other  wife 
than  in  foliiude  and  fadnefs.  More  than  tvventy  years 
after  their  feparation,  tlie  bare  mention  of  his  name 
drew  tears  from  tier  eyes  :  nor  could  (he  fpeak  of  him 
to  the  lafl  moments  of  her  life,-  but  in  the  llrongefl: 
terms  of  tendernefs  and  veneration.  She  was  parti- 
cularly attentive  to  his  relations,  and  favored  feveral 
of  them  with  a  ihare  in  her  irrioil  intimate  friendlhip. 

While  Mr.  Rowe  lived,  her  deference  to  his  wifhes 
had  induced  her  to  refide  in  London. -during  the  win- 
ter. But  this  argument  being  withdrawn, -i]:je  indulged 
her  invincible  fondnefs  for  retirement,  and  removed, 
as  foon  as  her  affairs  would  permit,  10  Frome,  in 
Somerfetfhire,  in  the  neighborhood  of  which  place 
lay  the  greater  part  of  her  eftate.  She  quitted  the 
town  with  a  determination  to  return  to  it  no  more. 
Nor  did  file  violate  this  refolution,  but  in  compliance 
■with  the  importunity  of  fome  h.ighly  refpedled  friends, 
v.'ho  in  great  ttfflidion,  foiicited  the  confolation  of  her 
company^ 

In  her  retreat  at  Frome,  fhe  compofed  her  pieces 
intitled  Frlendmip  in  Deathy^ind  Letters  moral  and  en^ 
tertaining.  The  defign  of  the  former  produdion  is, 
a-s  Dr.  Young  exprefles  it  in  his  preface,  "  to  imprefs 
the  notion  of  the  foul's  immortality,  without  which 
all  virtl^e  and  religion,  with  their  temporal  and  eter- 
Jia!  good  confcquences,  mud  fall  to  the  ground  ;  and  to 
make  the  mind  contra6t,  as  it  were  unawares,  a  ha- 
bitual perfuafion  of  a  future  exiftence."  It  may  be 
added,  that  the  obje6l  bo<h  of  this,  and  of  the  Letters 
moral  and  entertaining,  is  by  fictitious  examples  of 
virtue   and   benevolence,  to   allure  the  reader  to  th-a 

love 


360  IMemoirs  of 

love  of  every  thing  that  ennobles  hwman  nature  ;  and 
by  lively  images  of  the  reinorfe  and  iiiifery  attendant 
on  vice,  to  guard  the  yoin\g  and  unthinking  from  be- 
ing reduced  to  ruin  by  the  enchanting  name  of  plea- 
fare. 

In  the  year  173^,  the  importimity  of  fome  of  Mrso 
Rovve's  acquaintance  who  had  fcen  the  Hijhry  ofjo^ 
fephixx  manufcript,  prevail.ed  on  her  to  fuifer  the  poem 
to  be  made  public.  Tins  piece  was  written  in  her 
younger  years.  When  tirit  printed,  it  clofed  with 
the  marriage  of  the  hero.  At  the  requell  of  her 
friends,  particularly  of  an  illuftrious  Lady  to  whom 
■ilie  could  fcarcc  retufe  any  thing,  (he  added  two  books, 
in  order  to  include  Jofeph's  diicovery  of  himfelf  to 
liis  brethren  ;  the  compofition  of  which  is  faid  to 
have  employed  no  more  than  three  or  four  days.  The 
additronal  part,  which  was  her  lafi:  work,  was  pub- 
lifhed  but  a  fev/  weeks  before  her  death. 

To  prepare  for  this  great  event,  had  been  the  chief 
buHnefs  of  iier  life.  She  enjoyed  an  uncommon 
itrength  of  conflitution,  and  had  palled  a  long  feries 
of  years  without  any  fevere  indirpofuion.  But  a- 
bout  half  a  year  before  her  dcceafe,  llie  v/as  attacked 
with  a  diforder  which  was  evidently  dangerous  — 
Though  it  found  her  mind,  as  fhe  faid  to  one  of  her 
intimate  friends,  not  quite  fo  ferene,  and  prepared  to 
meet  death,  as  ufual,  yet  when  by  devout  contempla- 
tion§  on  (he  atonement  and  mediation  of  the  blelfed 
Kedeemer,  (he  had  rifen  above  her  fears,  llie  ex  per  i- 
fruced  uncommon  fatisfaftion,  and  even  tranfport — . 
With  tears  of  joy  fne  faid,  (lie  knew  not  whether  ihe 
had  ever  felt  the  like  in  all  her  life.  On  this  occahon 
ilie  repeated  Mr.  Pope's  Dying  Chrijiian  lo  his  JoiiJy 
with  an  air  fo  animated  as  to  evidence  that  fhe  felt 
iiU  the  fentiments  of  pious  extacy  and  triumph,  which 
breathe  in  that  beautiful  pie(^  of  facred  poetry. 

After  this  threatening  iilnefs,  fhe  recovered  her 
ufual  itate  of  health  \  and  though  fhe  was  fomewhat 

advanced 


Mrs.  Elizabeth  Rowe.  361 

•a^v^anced  in.  life,  yet  her  exa6t  temperance,  and  the 
ferenity  of  her  mind  led  her  friends  to  promife  them- 
felves  a  much  longer  enjoyment  of  her  than  it-pleafed 
Heaven  to  indulge  them.  The  day  file  was  feized 
with  the  complaint  which  in  a  few  hours  proved  mor- 
tal, llic  feemed  in  perfeft  health  and  vigor.  At  eight 
in  the  evening,  llie  converted  with  a  friend  with  her 
•wonted  vivacity  ;  after  which,  fhe  retired  to  her  cham- 
ber. About  ten,  her  fervant,  hearing  fome  noife  in 
her  room,  ran  inftantly  into  it,  and  found  her  fallen 
•from  her  chair  on  the  floor,  fpeechlefs,  and  in  the  a- 
gonies  of  death.  She  had  the  immediate  alli:hince  of 
a  phyfician  and  furgeon,  but  it  was  ineffcclual.  Hav- 
ing uttered  a  fmgle  groan,  (lie  expired,  a  few  minutes 
before  two,  on  Lord's  day  morning,  Feb.  20,  1737* 
in  her  fixty-third  year,  herdiforder  being  fuppofed  an 
apoplexy.  A  pious  book  was  found  open  by  her, 
with  fome  loofe  papers,  on  which  flie  had  written  the 
ioilowing  unconnected  fentences. 

O  guide,  and  counfel,  and  proteci  my  foul  fromftn  ! 

O /peak,  and  let  me  know  thy  heavnly  will, 

Speak  evidently y  to  my  lijlening  foul  I 

O  fll  f?iy  foul  with  love,  and  light,  and  peace. 

And  zuhifper  heavnly  comforts  to  my  foul  I 

O  fpeak,  celefiial  Spirit,  in  the  ft  rain 

Of  love  and  heavnly  pletfure  to  my  foul  I 

Thus  in  forming  devout  ejaculations,  (he  made'th^ 
laft  ufe  of  her  mental  powers  below  the  fkies  ;  proba^ 
bly  little  thinking^how  near  fhe  was  to  that  bliCsful 
hour  when  all  her  prayers  would  be  completely  an- 
fwered. 

As  (he  had  been  greatly  apprehenfive  that  the  vio- 
lence of  iier  pain,  or  the  languors  of  a  nek  bed  might 
occafion  fome  deprellion  or  fear  unfnitable  to  the 
cbaracler  and  expeflations  of  a  Chrifiian,  it  was  her, 
daily,  earneH:  prayer  (as  appears  from  her  manufcrirjj: 
G  g  2  '  book  ^ 


3^2  Memoirs  o? 

book  of  devotion)  that  flie  might  not  thus  difhonor 
her  profefliori.  She  often  likewife  exprefTed  to  her 
frier.ds  Iier  defire  of  a  fudden  removal,  as  it  would 
prevent  any  fuch  improper  behavior  in  her  laft  mo- 
ments. The  fuddennefs  of  her  death  may  therefore 
be  numbered  among  her  felicities,  and  tlie  gracious 
anfvvers  of  heaven  to  her  prayer?. 

Mrs.  Rowe  feemed,  by  the  cheerfulnefs  of  her  nat- 
ural temper,  peculiarly  calculated  to  enjoy  lite,  and 
all  its  innocent  fatisfaclions.  Yet  few  were  fo  diftant 
from  an  exceiiive  attachment  to  temporal  things.  Her- 
contempt  for  what  fhe  termed  a  low  itate  of  exiftence,. 
and  a  dull  round  of  infipid  pleafures,  and  her  defires 
after  the  enjoyments  of  the  heavenly  world,  were  great 
beyond  exprellion.  When  her  friends  expreilcd  their 
joy  at  feeing  her  look  fo  well,  and  promifed  them- 
felves  the  happinefs  of  her  company  for  miany  years, 
flic  ufed  %o  reply  that,  *  it  was  like  telling  a  ilave  his 
fetters  were  like  to  be  lading,  or  com;plimenting  hinx 
on  the  ftrength  of  the  walls  of  his  dungeon.'  In  ma- 
ny other  in(Tances,the  fervor  of  her  wiflies  to  live  the 
life  of  angelsj  irrefiuibly  brt)ke  from  her  lips. 

Her  death  occafioned  a  general  and  deep  mourning, 
efpecially  in  the  town  where  Ine  had 'lived,  and  the 
circle  of  her  acquaintance.  Above  all,  the  poor  were 
inexprelfiuly  afHicffced  with  the  intelligence.  At  her 
d'jors,  and  over  her  grave,  they  lamented  the  Icfs  of 
'^hQir  benefaclrefs,  poured  bleflings  on  her  memory, 
*uid  recounted  to  each  other  the  gentle  and  conde- 
fccnding  manner  in  which  flie.had  heard  their  rcquelb, 
nnd  the'many  inftances  in  which  ibey  had  experienc- 
ed h.er  bounty. 

In  her  cabinet  were  found  letters  to  fcveral  of  her 
mcil  heloved  friends,  which  were  defigned  to  be  de- 
livered after  her  death,  all  breathing  that  afrccllonate 
benevolence  and  piety  for  Which  Ibe  W2S  fo  diftin- 
:  iiilbed.  Among  thefe  was  the  following,  addrefled  to 
.■irs.Sar^li  Rowe,  her  hufband's  mother. 

M/ 


Mrs.  Elizabeth  Rowe,  363 

My  dear  Mother, 

I  am  nov/  taking  my  final  adieu  of 
this  v/orld,  in  certain  hopes  of  meeting  you  in  the 
r.ext.  I  carry  to  my  grave  m.y  affection  and  gratitude 
to  your  family,  and  leave  you  v/ith  the  finceieu  con- 
cern for  your  own  happinefs,  and  the  weltare  of  your 
family.  May  my  prayers  be  anfwered  when  I  am  keep- 
ing in  the  duft  !  O  may  the  angels  ot  God  condu6l  you 
in  the  paths  of  immortal  glory  and  pleafure!  I  Vvould 
collect  the  powers  of  m,y  foul,  and  afk  blefllngs  for 
you  wiih  all  the  holy  violence  of  prayer.  God  Al- 
«]ighty,theGod  of  your  pious  anceltors,  who  has  been 
^  our  dwelling-place  for  many  generations,  blefs  you  ! 
'Tis  but  a  iliori  fpace  I  have  tomeafure  ;  the  I'had- 
ows  are  lengthening,  rnd  my  fun  declining.  That 
goodnefs  which  has'hitherto  condu6led  me,  will  not 
fail  me  in  the  concluding  act  of  my  life.  That  name 
which  I  have  made  my  glory  and  my  boaft,  fnall  then 
be  my  ftrength  and  m.y  falvation.  To  meet  death  with 
a  becoming  fortitude,  is  a  part  above  the  pov/ers  of 
nature,  and  which  I  can  perform  by  no  power  or  ho- 
linefs  of  my  ow^n  ;  for  on  1  in  my  bcil:  effate,  I  am  al- 
together vanity  ;  a  wretched,  helplc-fs  fmner.  But  in 
the  merits  and  perfect  righteoui'nefs  of  God  my  Sav- 
ior, I  hope  to  appear  juHified  at  the  fupremetiibuaal, 
where  I  rauft  fliortly  ftand  to  be  judged. 

E.RowE. 


Another  of  her  pof^h-unious  letters  was^  dlre£led  to 
Dr.  Watts,  and  accompanied  her  manufcript  ot  De- 
vout Exercijes  of  tJ:c  heart,  &c.  which  the  Do6lor,  a- 
greeably  to  her'delire,  cmmunicatedto  the  world  foon 
at'ter  her  deceafe.  This  letter  we  infert,  as  adcition- 
ally  iiluftrating  her  piei/,  and  where  her  hope  relfcd 
in  the  view  ot  iramortaiitv. 

To 


364  Memoirs  ot 

■  To  the  Rev»  Dr.  ^Fatts,  at  Neivington. 
Sir, 

The  opinion  I  have  of  your  piety  and  judgmene 
is  the  reafon  of  my  giving  you  the  trouble  of  looking 
over  thefe  papers  in  order  to  publifh  them,  which  X 
de-iire  you  to  do  as  foon  as  you  can  conveniently  ;  on- 
ly you  have  full  liberty  to  fupprefs  what  you  think 
proper. 

1  think  there  can  be  no  vanity  in  this  defign,  for  I 
am  fenfible  fuch  thoughts  as  thefe  will  not  be  for  the 
tafte  of  the  modiih  part  of  the  world;  and  before  they 
appear,  I  tliall  be  entirely  difintereiled  in  the  cenfurc 
or  applaufe  of  mortals. 

The  refie<fiions  were  occafionally  written,  and  only 
for  my  cvvn  improvement :  hut  I  am  not  without 
hopes  that  they  may  have  the  fam.e  effect  on  fome  pious 
minds,  as  reading  the  experiences  of  others  has  had  en 
my  foul.  The  experimental  part  of  religion  has  gen- 
erally agreater  influence  than  its  theory:  and  if  when 
I  am  ileeping  in  the  dull,  thefe  Soliloquies  fhould  kin- 
dle a  iiame  of  divine  love  in  the  heart  of  the  lowell 
and  moft  defplfed  Chriftian,  be  the  glory  given  to  the 
great  fpring  of  all  grace  and  benignity.  ■ 

I  have  nov/ done  with  m.ortal things,  and  all  to  come 
is  vaft  eternity.  ■  Eternity  ! — how  trar.fportin^  is  the 
found  1  As  long  as  God  exills,my  being  and  happinefs 
are  fecure.  Thefe  unbounded  defires,  which  the  wide 
creation  cannot  limit,  (hall  be  fatished  for  ever.  I 
iliall  drink  at  the  fountain-head  of  pleafure,  and  be  re- 
frelhed  with  the  emanations  of  original  life  and  joy, 
I  lliall  hear  the  voice  of  imcreated  harmony  fpeaking 
peace  and  ineffable  confolation  to  my  foul, 

I  expect  eternal  life,  not  as  a  reward  [cf  merit)  but 
a  pure  atl  of  bounty.  Detelling  myfelf  in  every  view 
I  can  take,  I  fly  to  the  righteoufnefs  and  atonement 
of  my  great  Redeemer  for  pardon  and  falvation.  This 
Is  my  onIy_  confolation  and  hope.   Er^ter  not  into  judg- 


M-RS.  Elizabeth  RowE.  365 

merit.  0  Lord,  with  thy  fervant ;  for  in  thyjirht  flinll 
no  fiejh  he  jujiified  ! 

Through  the  blood  of  tlie  Lamb,  I  hope  for  an  en- 
tire: victory  over  the  lall  enemy  ;  and  that  before  this 
comes  to  you,.  I  fhall  have  reached  the  celeftial  heights  ; 
and.v.'hile  you  are  reading  thefe  lines,  I  ihall  be  ador- 
ing before  the  throne  of  God,  where  faith  fiiall  be 
tiirr.ed  into  vifion,  and  thefe  languifiiirig  defires  fatis- 
fied  with  the  full  fruition  of  iitimortal  love.   Adieu. 

Elizabeth  Rowe. 

The  following  pieces  afford  a  brief  foecimen  of  the 
itluterials  which  compofe  the  work  above  alluded  to, 
and  will  doubtlefs  be  acceptable  to  the  fcrious  reader. 

Glory  to  God  for  Salvation  hy  jiisus,  and  his  Blood, 

Let  me  give  glory  to  God  before  I  die,  ami  take 
fhame  and  confufion  to  myfelf.  I  afcribe  my  falva- 
tion  to  the  free  and  abfolule  gocdncfs  of  God.  Not 
by  the  ftrength  of  reafon,  or  any  natural  inclination 
to  virtue,  but  by  the  grace  of  God  I  am  luhat  I  am. — 

0  mv  Redeemer,  be  the  viclory,  be   the  glory  thine  ! 

1  expect  eternal  life  and  happlnefs  from  thee  not  as  a 
debi:,  but  a  free  gift,  a  prom i fed  acf  of  bounty.  Hov/ 
poor  would  my  expedations  be,  if  I  only  looked  to 
be  rewarded  according  to  thofe  works  which  my  ov/q 
vanity,  or  the  partiality  of  others  have  called  good, 
but  which,  if  examined  by  the  divine  pr-rity,- would 
prove  but  fpecious  fins  f  As  fuch  I  renounce  them. 
Pardon  them,  gracious  Lord,  and  I  afic  no  more  ;  ncr 
can  hope  for  that,  but  ihrough  the  fatisfa6lion  wh.ich 
hath  been  made  to  divine  jufUce  for  the  fins  of  the 
world. 

O  JefuSj.my  Savior!  what  harmony  dv/ells  in  thy 
same  !   Celcllial  joy,  immortal  life  is  in  the  found. 

Let  the  angels  fet  this  name  to  their  golden  harps  ! 
Let  the  redeemed  of  the  Lord  for  ever  magnify  it  ! 

Omy 


3^x3  •       Memoirs   ot      \ 

t 

O  my  prvopltloiis  Savior,  Avhere  were  my  hopcsy; 
but  for  thee  r  Plow  defperate,  how  undone  were  my 
eircfmiflances !  I  look  on  myfelf,  in  every  view  I  cari 
take,  with  horror  and. contempt.  1  was  born  in  a  Rate 
o(  fin  and  mifery,  and  in  my  heft  eftate  ain  ahogether 
vanity.  With  the  utmoft  advantages  I  can  boaH:,  I 
ihiiik  back,  I  tremble  to  approach  before  unblcuiifli- 
cd  Majefty.  Othou  in  v/hofe  nams  the  gentiles  truft, 
be  my  refuge  in  that  awful  hour  !  To  Thee  I  come, 
my  only  confidence  and  hope.  Let  the  blood  of  fprink- 
]ing,  let  the  blood  of  the  covenant  be  on  me  !  Cleanfe 
me  from  my  original  ftain,  and  my  contra£^ed  impu- 
rity, and  adorn  me  with  the  robes  of  thy  rii,liteouf- 
liefs,  by  .which  alone  I  expedl  to  ftandju (lined  before.- 
infinite  juftice  and  purity  ! 

O  enter  not  into  judgment  with  me,  for  the  bed 
actions  of  my  life  cannot  bear  thy  fcrutiny  !  Some 
fecret  blemifhh'as  ftained  all  my  glory  !  My  devotion 
to  God  has  been  mingled  with  levity  and  irreverence  ; 
my  charity  to  man,  with  pride  and  oftentation.  Some 
latent  defe6l  has  attended  my  befl:  aftions  ;  and  thofs 
very  things  which  perhaps  have  been  highly  cfteemed. 
2ry  men,  have  deferved  contempt  in  the  fjght  of  God* 

**  JVhcn  T Jurvey  the  wondrous  crofs 
On  which  the  Prince  of  glory  dyci,- 
My  rich  eft  gam  I  count  my  lofs, 
And  pour  contempt  on  all  my  pride. 

Forhid  It,  Lord,  that  I fhould  hoafi^ 
Save  in  the  death  of  Chrifi  my  God : 
All  the  vain  things  that  charm  me  mnfi^ 
] facrifice  them  to  his  blood, ^' 

A  Prayer  for  fpeedy'Sanfl  if  cation,  ■ 

O  Lord  God,  great  and  holy,  all-fuflicient  and  fulL 
-^f  grace  ;  if  thou  Ihouldefl  bid  me  form  a  wifh,  and- 

taks. 


Mrs.  Elizabeth  Rowe.  2^7 

■take  whatfoever  in  heaven  or  earth  I  had  to  afk,  it 
fiiould  not  be  the  kingdoms  of  this  world,  nor  the 
crowns  of  princes  ;  no,  nor  fliould  it  be  the  wreaths 
of  martyrs, -nor  the  thrones  of  archangels.  My  firft 
reqiieli:  is  to  be  made  holy.  This  is  my  higheft  con- 
cern. Rectify  the  difordcrs  fin  has  made  in  my  foul, 
and  renew  thine  image  there.  Let  me  be  fatisfied 
with  thy  likenefs.  Ihcu  hail:  compafied  my  paths 
vv'ith  mercy  in  aU'other  refpec^s,  and  I  am  difcontent- 
cd  with  nothing  but  my  own  heart,  becaufe  it  is  lo 
unlike  the  image  of  thy  hoiinefs,  and  [o  unfit  for  thy 
immediate  prefence, 

Perniit  me  to  be  importunate  here,  O  blcffed  God, 
4ind  grant  the  importunity  of  my  wiihes.  Let  me  be 
favored  with  a  gracious  and  fpeedy  anfwer,  for  I  am 
tlying  while  I  am  fpeaking.  The  very  breath  with 
■which  I  am  calling  iipon  thee,  is  carrying  away  a 
;part  of  my  life.  This  tongue  that  is  now  invoking 
thee  mult ilioriiy  be  filent  in  the  grave.  Thefe  knees 
that  are  bent  to  pay  thee  hotr.age,  and  thefe  hands  that 
now  are  lifted  up  tothe  Moft  High  God  for  mercy,  mud 
ilioriiy  be  mouldering  in  their  oiigiral  du^.  fhefe 
eyes  will  foon  be  cJofed  in  death,  which  are  now  look- 
ing up  to  thy  throne  for  a-bleliing.  O  prevent  the 
■iiylng  hours  with  thy  mercy,  and  let  thy  favor  out- 
ilrip'ihe  hally  m.omentsi 

Thou  art  unchanged  while  rolling  ages  pafs  along, 
-but  I  am  decaying  ^Avith  every  breath  I  draw.  My 
whole  allotted  tiine  is  but  a  point,  compared  with 
thy  infinite  duration.  The  Ihortnefs  and  vanity  of 
my  prefent  .being,  and  the  importance  of  my  eternal 
.concerns,  join  together  to  demand  my  utmolt  folici^ 
tudc,  and  give  v/ings  to  my  warmefi:  wifhes.  Before 
I  can  utter  all  my  prefent  defires,  the  haity  opportu- 
T.ity  perhaps  is  gone,  the  golden  feafon  vauiflied,  and 
.the  feafon  of  mercy  has  taken  its  everlafiing  flight. 

O  God   of  ages  !   hear  me  fpeedily,  and  grant  my 
lequcit  while  1  am  yet  fpeaking.     My  frail  exiUcnce 

^  Will 


368  Memoirs  op 

will  admit  of  no  delay.  Aufwer  me  according  to  the 
fliortnefs  of  my  duration,  and  the  exigence  of  my 
circumftances.  My  bufmefs,  of  high  importance  as 
it  is,  is  yet  limited  to  the  prefent  now,  the  paulrtg 
moment ;  for  all  the  powers  of  earth  cannot  jjromife 
me  the  next. 

Let  not  my  preiTing  importunity  therefore  offend 
thee.  My  happinefs,  my  everlailing  happinefs,  my 
Avhole  being,  is  concerned  in  my  prefent  faccefs. — 
As  much  as  the  enjoyment  of  God  himfelf  is  worth, 
is  at  ftake. 

Thou  knoweft,  Lord,  what  qnalifications  will  fit 
me  to  behold  thee.  Thou  knoweft  in  what  I  am  de- 
fective. Thou  canfi:  prepare  my  foul  rn  an  inilantto 
-enter  into  thy  holy  habitation.  .1  breathe  now,  but 
the  next  moment  may  be  death.  Let  not  that  fatal 
moment  come  before  I  am  prepared.  The  fame  cre- 
ating voice  that  faid,  Li  T  THERE  BE  LIGHT,  and 
there  ujas  light,  can  in  the  fame  m.anner  purify  and 
adorn  m.y  foul,  and  make  nje  fit  for  thy  prefence  ;  and 
my  foul  longs  to  be  thus  purified  and  adorned.  O 
Lord,  delay  not  ;  for  every  moment's  interval  is  a  lofs 
to  me,  and  may  be  a  lofs  uufpeakable  and  irreparable. 
Thy  delay  cannot  be  the  leafi  advantage  to  thee.  Thy 
power  and  clemency  are  as  full  this  prtfent  iniiant  as 
they  will  be  the  next,  and  my  time  as  ileeting,  and 
my  wants  as  prefling. 

Remember,  O  eternal  God,  my  loft  tim.e  is  forev- 
er loft,  and  my  wafted  hours  will  never  return.  My 
negle(fted  opportunities  can  never  be  recalled.  To 
me  they  are  ^one  for  ever,  and  cannot  be  improved  : 
but  thou  canic  change  my  finful  foul  into  hoi inef?  by 
a  word,  and  fet  me  now  in  the  way  to  cverlafting  im- 
provement. 

O  let  not  the  Spirit  of  God  reftrain  itfelf,  but  blefs 
me  according  lo  the   fulnefs  of  thine  o^vn  Being,    ac- 
coriiing  to  the  riches  of  thy  grace  in  Cbrill  Jefus,  ac-  • 
.<:ordine  to  thy    infir.ite,  inconceivable  love,  manifef- 

ted 


Mrs.  Elizabeth  Rowe.  369 

tc'J  m  that  glorious  gift  of  thy  beloved  Son,  in  "ivhom 
the  fulnefs  of  the  Godhead  was  contained.  It  is 
through  his  merit  and  mediation  I  wait  for  all  the 
unbounded  bleflings  1  want  and  aOc  for. 

Longing  for  the  ccming  ifChriJl, 

Come,  Lord  Jefus,  come  quickly  !  O  come,  left  my 
expectations  faint,  left  I  grow  weary,  and  murmur  at 
thy  long  delay  !  I  am  tired  with  thefe  vanities,  and 
the  worldj:grows  every  day  more  unentertaining  and 
infipid.  It  has  now"  loft  its  charms,  and  finds  my 
heart  infenfible  to  all  its  allurements.  With  ccldnefs 
and  contempt  I  view  thefe  tranfitory  glories,  infpired 
with  nobler  profpefls  and  vafter  expectations  by  faith, 
I  fee  the  promifed  land, and  everyday  brings  me  near- 
er the  pofteftion  cf  m.y  heavenly  inheritance.  Then 
fliall  I  fee  God  and  live,  and  face  to  face  behold  iv^y 
iriiimphant  Redeemer, 

And  in  his  favor  find  277unortal  light . 

Te  hoursy  and  days,  cut  fljort  your  tedious  f.ighi  : 

Te  months^  and  years,  ij  Juch  allotted  be 

In  this  detefled,  barren  ivorld  for  me, 

ll'ith  hajly  revcluticn  roll  along  : 

I  languifh  zvith  impatience  to  be  gone. 

I  have  nothing  here  to  linger  for.  My  hopes,  mv'' 
reft,  my  treafure  and  my  joys  are  all  above.  PvTv  foul 
taints  for  the  courts  of  the  Lord  in  a  dry  and  thirfty 
j.md,  where  there  is  no  refreiiiment. 

How  long  fnall  I  dwell  in  Alefcchy  andjojourn  In  the 
tents  cf  Kedar  r'VVhen  will  the  wearifome  journey  ot 
life  be  fini 'died  r  When  Ihall  I  reach  my  everlr.lting 
home,  and  arrive  at  my  celeftial  country  r  My  heart, 
iny  wifties,  are  already  there,  I  have  no  engagements 
to  delay  my  farewell  ;  nothing  to  detain  me  here  ;  but 
I  wander  an  unacquainted  pilgrim,  a  ftranger  and  dcf- 
ol?tC;  far  from  my  native  regions.  My 

H  h 


37.0  Memoirs  op 

My  friends  arc  gone  before,  and  are  now  triumpri- 
ring  in  the  fkies,  fecure  of  the  conqueil,  -ppffefied  of  the 
rewards  of  viclory.  They  furvey  the  field  of  battle, 
and  look  back  with  pleafiire  on  the  diftant  danger. 
Death  and  hell,  forever  vanquiflied,  leave  them  in 
the  pofiefTion  of  endiefs  tranquility  and  joy  i  while  I^ 
befet  with  a  thoufand  fnares,  and  tired  with  continual 
toil,  unfleadily  maintain  the  field,  till  a6live  faith  fteps 
in,  affures  me  of  the  conqueit,  and  liiews  me  the  ira- 
inortal  crown.  It  is  faith  tells  me  that  light  is  Jozvn 
for  the  righteous^  and  gUidneJs  for  the  uf  right  in  heart, 
\\.  alTures  me  that  my  Redeemer  lives,  and  that  he  fhdll 
/land  at  the  lajl  day  upon  the  earthy  and  that  though, 
after  ray  jkin^  worms  defiroy  this  body y  yet  that  in  tny 
f.ejh  I  jhallfcc  God  ;  whom  I  JI?allJeefor  myfeif,  and 
7iot  another  y  and  thefe  eyes  jh  all  h  eh  old  y  though  iny  reins 
he  confumed  ivithin  me.  Ame7i  :  even  fo  come  Lord  ye- 
fus  !  This  muft  be  the  language  till  thou  doil:  appear  ; 
and  thefe  my  impatient  breathings  after  thee.  Till  I 
Xee  thy  falvaiion,  my  heart  and  my  iielh  will  pine  for 
the  living  God. 

Grant  me,  O  God,  to  fulpl  as  a  hireling  my  day. 
Shorten  the  fpace,  and  let  it  be  full  of  a6lion.  It  is 
of  fmall  importance  how  few  th^-e  are  of  thefe  little 
circles  of  days  and  hours,  fothey  are  but  well  filled  up 
with  devotion,  and  with  all  proper  duty. 


To  thefe  extrads  from  the  Devout  Exercijes  we 
fubjoin  fome  paifages  from  Dr  Watts's  preface,  part- 
ly as  farther  illuftrating  Mrs.  Rowe's  charader,  and 
partly  as  furnifiiing  very  important  hints  refpedling 
the  nature  and  ufe  of  thefe  and  fimilar  writings. 

<<  The  admirable  author  of  thefe  devotional  papers," 
fays  the  Doclor,  ''  has  been  in  high  ei^eem  among  the 
ingenious  and  the  polite,  fince  fo  many  excellent  fruits 
,©f  her  pen,  both  in  yerfe  and  profe,  have  appealed  in 
public,  ^,        , 


Mrs.  Elizabeth  Rov/e..  372 

.  *'  Though  many  of  her  writings  publifhed  in  her 
Tlfe-time,dircover  a  pious  and  heavenly  temper,  and 
a  warm  zeal  for  religion  and  viriiie,  yet  fhe  chofe  to 
conceal  the  devotions  of  her  hearty  till  fhe  was  got  be- 
yond the  cenfure  and  the  applaufe  of  mortals.  It  was 
enough  that  God,  whom  flie  loved  with  ardent  and  fu- 
preme  affection,  was  witnefs  to  all  her  fecret  and  in- 
tenfc  breathings  after  him. 

"  It  is  now  almod  thirty  years  fmce  I  was  honor- 
ed with  her  acquaintance  ;  nor  could  her  great  modef- 
ty  conceal  all  her  (hining  graces  and  accompli  (hments. 
But  it  is  not  my  province  to  give  a  particular  account 
of  this  excellent  woman.  Her  temper,  her  condudl 
and  her  virtues  will  be  fet  in  a  juft  and  pleafmg  light, 
in  the  memoirs  of  her  life, 

^^Thz^Q  devout  exercifes  are  animated  with  fuch 
fire  as  feems  to  fpeak  the  language  oF  holy  pafiion, 
and  difcovers  them  to  be  the  dictates  of  her  heart  ; 
and  thofe  who  were  t]jvored  with  her-  chief  intimacy 
will  mod  readily  believe  it.  The  ifyle,  rconfefs,  Is 
raifed  above  that  of  com.mon  meditation  or  foliloquy : 
but  let  it  be  remembered,  fhe  was  no  common  Chrif- 
tian.  As  her  virtues  were  fublime,  fo  her  genius  was 
bright  and  fparkling,  and  the  vivac^'ity  of  her  imagin- 
ation had  a  iin6lure  of  th^  rn^vf^^almon;  from  her 
childhood.  This  made  it  natpal^  to  her  to  exprefs 
the  inward  fentiments  of  her  four  in  more  exalted 
language,  and  to  paint  her  ideas  in  metaphor  and  rap- 
lure  near  akin  to  the  ditlion  of  poefy. 

"  The  reader  will  here  find  a  fpirit-  dwelling  in 
fledi  elevated  into  divine  tranfports  congenial  to  thofe 
of  angels  and  unbodied  minds.  Her  intenfp  love  to 
lier  God  kindles  at  every  hint,  and  tranfcends  the  lim- 
its of  mortality.-  I  fcarce  ever  met  with  any  devo- 
tional writings  which  gave  us  an  example  of  a  fcul  fo 
far  raifed,  at  fpecial  feafcns,  Jibove  every  thing  not 
iaimoital  and  divine, 

'*  Yet. 


372  Memoirs  02? 

*^  Yet  (he  is  confcious  of  her  frailties  too.  She 
fometimes  confeires  her  folly  and  guilt  in  the  fight  of 
God  in  the  moft  atfe(3:ing  language  of  deep  humilia-- 
tion.  It  is  with  a  patlietic  fenfiLility  of  her  weak- 
Ttefs,  and  in  the  {Irongeft  language  of  felf-difplrcency, 
ilie  bewails  her  oiiences  againft  lier  Creator  and  Re- 
deemer :  and  in  her  intervals  ot  darknefs,  llie  vents- 
her  painfuJ  complaints  and  mournings  tor  the  ab- 
icuce  of  her  highell  and  beft  beloved. 

**  Let  it  be  obferved,  that  it  was  much  the  fafhion, 
even  among  fome  divines  of  eminence,  in  foriner 
years,  to  exprefs  the  fervors  of  devout  love  to  our  Sa- 
vior, in  the  ftyle  of  the  So7ig  cf  Solomon  :  and  I  mud 
ionfefs  that  fever  alof  my  compofures  in  verfe,  writ- 
ten  in  younger  life,  were  led  by  thofe  examples  un- 
warily into  this  track:.  But  if  I  may  be  permitted  to 
fpcak  the  fenfc  of  maturer  age,  I  can  hardly  think 
tills  the  h2ppie(t  language  in  which  Chriitians  fhould 
^cnerallv  difcover  their  warm  fenfe  of  religion,  lince 
the  clearer  and  more  fpiritua.1  revelations  of  the  Nev/ 
Teftament.  Yet  ftill  it  mufl  b-e  owned,  there  are 
i^oxYiQ  fouls  favcred  with  fuch  beatifying  viflts  froni' 
heaven,  and  raptured  with  fuch  a  flame  of  divine  af- 
fecSlion,  as  m.ore  powerfully  engages  all  animal  na- 
ture in  their  dcvotiO/is,  and  conitniins  them  to  fpeak 
their  pureft  and  moft  fpi ritual  exercifes  in  fuch  pa- 
thetic and  tender  e'xprelfions  as  may  be  perverfely 
profaned  by  an  unholy  conftruciion.  And  the  pro-= 
penfity  tow:.rd  this  flyie  is  yet  ftronger,  where  early 
impreflions  of  piety  have  been  made  on  the  heart  by 
devout  writings  of  this  kind. 

*'  Itfhould'be  remembered  alfo,  there  is  nothing 
to  be  found  here  wliich  rifes  alDOve  our  ideas.  Here 
are  none  of  thofe  abfurd  and  incomprehenfible  phra- 
fes  which  amufe  the  ear  with  founding  vanity,  and 
hold  reafon  in  fovereign  contempt.  Here  are  no  vif- 
ionary  fcenes  of  wild  extravagance,  no  affedations  oif 
the  tumid  and  unmeaning  ftyle,  which  fpreads  a  glar- 

incr 


Mrs.  Elizabeth  Rcv;e.  ^73 

ing  confufion  over  tlie  iinderftanding  :  nothing  that 
leads  the  reader  into  the  region  of  thole  mydical  (Iiad- 
ows  and  darknefs  which  abound  in  the  RomiOi  wri- 
ters, under  the  pretence  of  refined  light  and  fublime 
exracy.  Nor  is  the  character  of  this  ingenious  au- 
thor to  be  bhmiOied  with  any  other  reproaches  which 
have  been  fcnnetimes  cafi:  on  fnch  fort  of  meditations. 

**  Though  (lie  was  never  tempted  away  from  our 
common  Chriftianity  into  the  faihionable  apoftafiesof 
the  age,  yet  I  am  well  informed  that  in  her  latter 
years  ihe  entered  with  more  zeal  and  affciflion  into 
Jbme  of  the  peculiar  dodrines  of  the  gofpel.  And  it 
is  evident  fome  of  thefe  devotional  pieces  have  a  more 
evangelic  turn  than  others  ^  and  probably  rnofl:  of  thefe 
were  compcfed  or  corretled  in  the  latter  part  of  her 
life.  The  oppofition  which  has  of  late  been  made  t(3 
fomc  of  thefe  great  truths,  gave  occafion  to  her  fur- 
ther fearch  into  them,  and  her  zeal  for  them, 

*'  Let  me  perfuade  all  who  perufe  this  book,  to  (ry 
hov/  far  they  can  fpeak-  this-  language,  and  affume 
thefe  lentiments  as  their  own.  ■'  And  by  afpiring  to 
follow  them,  may- they  find  fatisfaction  and  delight  ; 
or  at  leait  learn  the  profitable  lefibns  of  felf-abafe- 
iilcnt  and  holy  tome.  May  a  noble  and  glorious  am- 
bition excite  In  their  hreaifs  a  facred-zeal  to  emulate- 
(o  illuflriou^  an  example.  Whatever  ardors  of  divine 
love  have  been  kindled  in'a  foul  united  to  fleOi  and 
blood,  may  alio  be  kindled  by  the  fame  influences  of- 
grace  in  other  fpirits,  laboring  under  the  fame  clogs - 
and  impediments.  ■ 

'*  But  perhaps  it  will  be  nccefiary  here  to  give  a 
caution  to  fome  humble  Chriilians,  that  they  would 
n'ot  make  thefe  higher  elevations  of '  piety  and  holy 
joy  the  teft  and  Irandard  hy -which  to  judge  of  the  fin- 
cerity  of  theirown  rellgicn.  Ten  thoufand  faints  2  ro 
arrived  fafe  at  pjradife,  wiio  have  not  been  favored, 
iike  St.  Paul,  with  a  rapture  into  the  third  heaven, 
iwr  could'ever  rife  to  the  afftdionate  tTanfports   ?nd 


^74  Memoiss  op 

devout  joys  of  Mrs.  Rowe  ;  yet  I  hope  all  ferious 
readers  may  fine)  fomething  here,  which,  through  the 
aids  of  the  blelTed  Spirit,  may  raife  ihem  above  their 
lifual  pitch,  may  give  a  rxew  Ipriiig  to  ihcir  religious 
pleafures,  and  their  immortal  hopes,  and  thereby  ren- 
der their  lives  more  holy  and  heavenly." 


Befide  the  Gompofitionsof  Mrs.  Rowe  already  men- 
tioned, there  are  two  volumes  ftyled  mifceUanefjus 
ivorks,  the  nrft  of  which  is  a  colletlion  of  her  poems 
on  various  occafions ;  and  the  other,  a  feries  of  famil- 
iar letters  to  her  friends. 

To  the  general  account  already  given  of  the  life  of 
this  diilinguKhed  woman,  it  may  be  proper  to  add 
here  a  more  particular  delineation  of  the  moft  ft rik- 
ing  excellencies  of  her  chara£ler. 

She  had  a  fingular  command  of  her  pafllojis.  Such 
■was  the  ferenity  and  fweetnefs  of  her  temper,  that  it 
could  neither  be  niuled  by  adverfe  events,  nor  foured 
by  the  approach  of  age.  It  is  doubtiul  whether  fhe 
•was  ever  angry  in  her  life  ;  at  leaft,  on  occaiion  of 
thofe  iiifelicities  and  difplcailng  incidents  whicji,. 
though  really  trivial  in  their  nature,  afford  iVequently 
ihe  moft  powerful  temptations  to  paflion.  With  her, 
they  v/ere  rather  the-  fu bj efts  of  mirth  and  good-hu- 
mored rallery.  A  fervant  who  lived  with  her  near 
twenty  years,  fcarce  in  a  Tingle  inftance  difcovered  in 
Iter  even  a  tendency  to  anger  toward  herfelf,  or  re- 
jcntment  toward  others,  except  in  tb.e  caufe  of  heaven,, 
sgainft  impiety  and  flagrant  crimes. 

With  a  manly  elevaUon  of  genius,  Mrs.  Rowe  pof- 
.^■iFed  all  that  ge'ntlenefs  of  difpofition  v/hich  is  the 
peculiar  ornament  of  her  own  fex.  She  was  Angularly 
iTQQ.  from,  the  feverity  which  has  made  the  charadcr 
of  a  u;// fo  unamiablc.  Next  to  writings  pofitively 
rofane  and  impure,  thofe  which  had  her  ftrongeft  a- 
-ifioa  were  faiir.'s.    She  difiiked  them  for  the  malice 


Mrs.  Eliza:beth  RowE'.-  375 

and  perfonal  invective  with  which  they  are  often  (o 
leplete.  Nothing  of  this  kind  is  to  be  found  in  her 
works  :  nor  was  her  converration  lefs  diilant  from 
every  approach  to  ill-nature.  She  fortified  her  refo- 
lutions  againft  evil-fpeaking  by  particular  and  lolemn 
vows,  as  appears  by  the  iollowing  palfages  in  her 
manufcript. 

Odoher  6,  1726. 
O  let  me  once  again  bind  myfelf  to  the  Lord,  nev- 
er, by  his  grace,  to  fpeak  evil  of  any  perfon.  O  help 
me  to  govern  my  tongue  by  the  ftriclelt  rules  of  char- 
ity and  truth,  and  never  ta  utter  any  evil  furmifes,  or 
make  theleaft  retxe6lion  to  the  dilhonor  ct  m.y  neigh- 
bor. Let  me  in  the  minuteft  circumftance  do  to  oth- 
ers as  1  would  they  fhould  a£l  to  me.  Let  me 
hope,  let  me  believe  all  things  to  the  advantage  of  oth- 
ers. Give  me  thy  divine  alliiknee  ta  perform  this 
great  duty,  and  fet  thou  a  watch  on  my  words,  and 
keep,  O  ikidly  keep,  the  door  of  my  lips,  that  I  of- 
fend not  with  my  tongue.  Now  let  thy  grace  be  fuf- 
ficient  for  me,  and^  ihy  llrength  be  manifeft  in 
my  weaknefs.  In  thy  ftrength,^in  the  name  of  the 
Lord  my  Redeemer,  let  me  engage  with  all  my  future 
temptations.  Look  gracioully  on  this  petition,  and 
remember  me  when  I  am  in  any  fufpenie,  any  exi- 
gence, and  am  ready  to  forget  my  engagements,  in 
the  moment  that  I  Ib'all  waver, ftrengthen  me:  re(^rain 
me  when  the  malignant  thought  arifes  ;  and  while  the 
vet  unuttered  words  are  ready  to  iffue  from  my  lips, 
fet  thou  thy  bridle  there,  aiid  govern  my  rebellious 
faculty. 

By  fuch  folemn  engagements  as  thefe,  her  conduft 
was  uniformly  regulated.  Scarce  any  occafion  arcfe 
which,  in  her  view,  would  juilify  the  reporting  of 
what  was  prejudicial  to  another's  reputation.  "  I 
ChU  anpeal,"  fays  Hie,  in  a  letter  to  a  lady  with  whom 
'  '  fhe 


37^' 


MeMOIRS   01! 


fhe  had  been  long  intimate,  *' if  yen  ever  knew  me 
make  an  envious,  or  an  ill-natured  refleclion  on  any 
perfon  upon  earth.  Indeed  the 'follies  of  mankind' 
would  afford  a  wide  and  various  fcene  ;  but  charity 
v/ould  draw  a  veil  of  darknefs  here,  and  choofe  to  be 
lor  ever  filent,  rather  than  expatiate  on  the  melancho- 
ly theme."  Scandal  and  detra6lion  appeared  to  her- 
fuch  extreme  inhumanity,  as  no  charms  of  vi^it  could 
render  tolerable.-  If  neceffitated  to  be  prefent  at  fuch 
converfation,  (he  explicitly  condemned  it,  where  fhe 
thought  (he  could  properly  ufe  the  liberty  ;  and  nev- 
e^r  failed  to  defend  the  injured. 

She  was  as  much  a  (Granger  to  envy,  as  if  it  had  been 
imp  jifiblefor  rabafeapailiontoenrerthehuman'breaft  ; 
and  was  always  forv/ard  to  do  judice  to  every    diftin- 
guillied  writer  and  characlcr.'    She  exceedingly  loved 
to  praife,  and  failed  not  to  obferve  and  commend  ev- 
ery  appearance  of  merit  in  her  acquaintance,  at  the 
same  time  overlooking  their  frailties  with  more  than 
even  the  ufual  partiality  of  fricndfhip.       Yet  though 
ih^  v/itiied  to  make   no  other   ufe  of  fpeech  than  to 
commend    worth  and    goodnefs,  a   fenfe  of  duty  on  ' 
fome  occafions    compelled   her  to    reprove  ;  but    the 
feverity  of  this  virtue  Vv^as  tempered  by  the  fofteftarts 
of  gentlenefs  and  love.     One  inflance   of  the    honeft 
artifice  with  which  fhe  ufed  to   difguifehcr  admoni- 
tions, is  worthy  of  remark.-     She  frequently  commen- 
ded perfbns  who  were  didinguilhed  for  fom.e  partic- 
ular excellence,  before  fome  of  her  friends  who  were" 
deficient  in  tha-t  virtue  ;  hoping  they  might  be  ftruck  • 
with  the  beauty  of  the  example  thus  indiredily  propo-  • 
fed  to  their  imitation. 

.  In  converfation  Ihe  had  few  equals.  Her  wit  wa3 
inexhauHible.  Her  thoughts"  were  exprelTed  in  la-ii- 
guage  beautiful  and  flovving  ;  and  as  ail  was  accom- 
panied with  an  tinaffecled  benevolence  and  frankncfs, 
ihe  charmed  all  who  converfed  with  her.  "Tht:  eic- 
v«ti<?a  of  her   undcriianding  made  her  defpife  thof^ 


Mss.  Elizabeth  Rows,  377 

trifles  which  too  frequently  dv/ell  on  the  lips  of  her 
fex,  and  (lie  would  always  have  chofen  to  talk  on  im- 
portant and  inftruclive  themes.  Yet  Ui\  difcourfe  con- 
llantiy  ferious  (houjd  prove  tedious,  flie  fometimes  en- 
tertained her  friends  on  more  amufing  fubje6ls.  But 
as  foon  as  a  tranfition  could  be  made  without  the 
appearance  of  afredtation,  fhe  returned  to  her  favorite 
topics,  on  which  fhe  exerted  all  her  exquihte  talents 
to  recommend  the  m.oft  exadl  morality  and  fublimc 
piety  ;  fo  that  it  feemed  impcffible  to  be  in  her  com- 
pany without  becoming  wifer  and  better,  or  to  leave 
it  without  regret. 

Mrs.  Rowe's  wit,  beauty*  and  merit  had  f/om  her 
youth  attracted  much  compliment,  and  her  writings 
•were  liberally  praifed.  Yet  amidil  thcfe  temptations 
to  vanity  and  pride,  (lie  retained  all  the  humility  of 
the  moll  obfcure  and  negleded  of  the  human  race. 
She  rarely  mentioned  any-  of  her  writings,  even  to 
her  moft  intimate  friends-;  nor  everdifcovered  the  leaft 
elation  at  their  great  fuccefs,  and  the  approbation  they 
received  from  fome  of  the  fineil:  writers  of  the  age. 
Such  praife  only  led  her  to  afcribe   the  glory   to   the 

Original 

*  Her  perjon  is  thus  dejcrihed  hy  the  original  zvriter 
cf  her  life,  <*  Though  fie  was  not  a  regular  beauty,  yet 
jhe  popjjed  a  large  meajurecf  the  charms  of  her  Jex, 
.She  was  of  a  moderate  fiaturey  her  hair  of  a  fine  auburne 
color,  and  her  eyes  of  a  darkifh  grey,  inclining. to  blue, 
and  full  of  fire.  Her  complexion  luas  very  fair,  and  a 
mitural  rofy  bhifi  glo'wed  in  her  cheeks.  She  f poke  grace- 
fully :  her  voice  ivas  exceedingly  fweet  and  harniorncusy 
cuidperfealy  fulled  to  that  gentle  languag€which  akuays 
fijivedfrorn  her  lips. .  Bufthe  foftnefs  and  benevolence 
\f  her  afpet^  were  beyond  all  defcripiion.  It  infpired 
irrcfifibie  love,  yet  not  ivithout  a  mixture  of  that  avje. 
and  veneration  which  diflinguifioed fcnfe  and  virtue,  apr^- 
parent  in  the  countenance ^.are  wont  to  create :\ 


37^^  Memoirs  oi? 

Original  of  all  perfection,  to  wliofe  power  and  good- 
nefs  Die  feit  and  acknowledged  infinite  obligations. 
"  It  is  but  for  Heaven,"  faid  flie,  <*  to  give  a  turn  ta 
one  of  my  nerves,  and  I  fnould  be  an  ideot."  She 
was  exquifitely  fenfible  of  her  ov^n  defeats,  and  the 
frailty  infeparable  from  our  finful  nature.  *'  How 
fmall  a  part  is  there  in  human  aclions,"  fhe  nfed  to 
fay,  <*that  raerits  the  name  of  goodnefs,  when  viewed 
with  the  felfiflinefs,  pride  and  vanity  that  attend  them. 
The  bare  levity  of  our  fpirits  in  devotion,  is  e^oug^l 
to  condemn  us,  when  we  confider  what  a  holy  Being 
God  is,  how  fpotlefs  in  his  perfe6lions,  and  liow  in- 
finite in  his  majefty." — She  took  no  indecent  fliare  in 
converfation,  and  w^as  frequently  obferved  to  be  filent 
on  fubje6ls  ihe  well  underflood,  and  on  which  fhe 
could  have  difplayed  her  talents  to  great  advantage. 
One  who  knew  her  long  and  intimately,  declared,  that 
he  could  nor  remember  a  Tingle  expreflion  to  have 
fallen  from  her,  inconnftcnt  with  humility.  She  never 
didlated  to  others,  nor  arrogated  a  deference  to  her 
own  fentiments,  but  in  convening  with  perfons  of  a- 
bilities  far  beneath  her  own,  feemed  to  fludy  to  ren- 
der her  fuperiority  eafy  to  them.  Nor  were  her  affa- 
bility and  readinefs  of  accefs  to  the  lowefl,  lefs  re- 
markable. It-  was  impodible  for  lier  to  treat  any  with 
infolence  or  contempt  :  and  fhe  paid  a  mofl  peculiar 
refpecii  to  fincere 'piety,  though  in  fome  inflances  at- 
tended with  fuch  ignorance,  and  meannefs  of  circum- 
liances  as  might  have  quite  obfcured  it  to  lefs  humble 
and  generous  minds.  - 

She  v/as  perfeftiy  untainted  w'iththat  loveof  pleaf- 
ure  which  is  fo  hodiie  to  religion  and  virtue.  She 
w-as  ignorant  of  every  fafliionable  game.  Play,  (he,, 
confidered,  at  befl;  as  an  art  of  lofing  time,  and  for- 
getting to  think ;  but  when  flie  receded  on  the  fa- 
tal confequences  attending  a  fond  attachment  to  cards 
and  dice,  fnc  viewed  them  with  horror.  Her  tafte  was 
400  juft  to  reliih  thofe  infipid  triSes  called  jiovels  and 

romances'^ 


Mrs.Elizabeth  RowE.  37^ 

.rcmanceSy  which  are  ufually  as  deflitute  of  wit  and  re- 
al imitation  of  nature,  as  replete  with  images  which 
pollute  the  imagination,  and  iliock  every  chafte  mind. 
She  w#uld  have  efteemed  the  diveriions  of  theEnglifh 
theatre,  efpeciaily  thofe  of  the  tragic  kind,  capable  of 
affording  a  rational  and  noble  pleaiure,  if  fhe  could 
have  believed  them  innocent  :  but  fhe  held  herfelf 
bound  to  abftain  from  entertainments  which,  in  her 
opinion, -generally  tended  to  promote  impurity  of 
manners,  and  expofe  piety  to  fcorn  and  ridicule.  The 
elevation  of  her  foul  preferved  her  from  all  fondnefs 
for  luxury  in  food.  She  judged  it  far  beneath  the  dig- 
rJ.ty  of  a  being  poiTelTtd  of  reafon,  and  born  for  im- 
mo'rtality.  She  was  always  pleafed  with  what  flie 
found  on  her  table  ;  and  neither  the  kind  of  food,  nor 
the  manner  of  drefilng  ii,  gave  her  the  leaf!  uneafinefso 
'If  in  either  of  thefe  refpecls  it  was  not  perfectly  a- 
greeable,  it  only  afforded  her  a  fubjecl  of  pleafantry. 
She  mixed  in  no  parties  of  pleafuie,  and  extremely 
defpifed  the  trivial,  uninftrullive  converfation  of  for- 
mal vifits,  which  Ihe  avoided  as  much  as  decency  would 
allow.  Indeed,  if  drawing  be  excepted,  (lie  contemn- 
ed everything  that  bears  the  name  of  am-iifement,' 
however  innocent.  "  Bv't  I  confefs,"  fays  her  hif- 
torian,  '^  this  part  of  her  eh  irader  may  not  be  fo  fit 
for  general  imitation.  Though  the  vivacity  and 
cheerfulnefs  ot  her  temper  might  pofTibly  fet  her  a- 
•  bovc  the  neceffity  of  allowing  herfelf  intervals  of  a- 
mufemcnt,  yet-fuch  abiilneijce  from  every  kind  of  rec- 
K-ation  might  in  fome  tend  to  four  the  mind  with  auf- 
tere  and  unamiable  difpofiTioRS,  or  at  leaft^to  deprefs 
■  the  fpirits  to  fuch  raeh^.ncholy  as  would  unfit  them  for 
the  neceiTary  duties  of  life.'' 

She  had  a  contempt  of  riches  which  is  rarely  equal- 
led. Being  perfeaiv  fatisned  with  the  m.oderate  for- 
tune allotted  her  by 'Providence,  fhe  purfued  no  de- 
figns  to  increafe  it.  She  could  not  be  perfuaded  to 
publifii  her  v/oi-ksbv  fubfcription,  nor  even  to  accept 
^  '  the 


.380  *MeM0!R3    op 

the  advantageous  terms  propofed  by  the  booJc-fener, 
on  condition  of  her  permitting  her  fcattered  pieces  to 
be  colle6led  and  publiilied  together.  She  never  faw 
a  court  :  and  if  (he  has  occafionally  mentioned  with 
honor  fome  of  the  princes  under  whofe  reigns  (lie  liv- 
ed, it  was  only  from  a  fincere  veneration  for  them 
as  the  fupporters  of  liberty,  which  fhe  confidered  an 
ineftimable  bledlng  ;  and  without  the  leaft  expeda- 
tion  of  any  other  reward  than  the  pleafure  of  fliewing 
her  gratitude  to  ihofe  whom  flie  eileemed  bleflings  to 
their  country.  Her  expreflions  of  refpedl  for  fome 
of  herfriends  of  high  rank,  were  equally  free  from  the 
fufpicion  of  inierelled  views  ;  for  Ihe  gained  nothing 
by  their  friendfliip,  but  the  pleafure  of  their  converfa- 
tion,  and  an  acquaintance  with  their  virtues.  The 
love  of  money  fhe  thought  the  moft  fordid  ofpaflions^ 
and  frequently  lamentedits  general  prevalence.  She 
did  not  know  lier  own  eftates  from  others,  till  mo- 
tives of  prudence,  when  llie  v/as  apprehenfive  of  foon 
leaving  them,  obliged  her  to  inform  herfclf.  She  was 
fo  far  from  that  rigor  in  exadting  her  due  whicli  ap- 
proaches to  inhumanity,  that  her  ncgle£i  of  her  inter- 
eft  may  rather  be  cenfured  as  extreme.  She  let  her 
'Cflaies  below  their  value,  as  appeared  by  the  confidcr- 
able  advance  of  their  rents  after  her  deceafe  ;  and  (lie 
was  fo  gentle  to  her  tenants,  that  fhe  not  only  had 
no  law-fuit  with  any  of  them,  but  would  not  fufFer 
them  to  be  even  threatened  with  the  feizurc  of  their 
goods,  when  they  negledled  their  payments.  In  fev- 
eral  inftances,  fhe  voluntarily  refigned  her  right,  when 
very  clear  and  indifputable.  She  could  fcarce  bear 
the  mention  of  injuftice  without  tretiibling,  and  fel- 
dom  thought  (he  could  keep  far  enough  from  it.  **  I 
can  appeal  to  thee,"  (he  fays,  in  an  addrefs  to  the  De- 
ity, *«  how  fcrupuloufiy  I  have  a6ted  in  matters  of-e- 
quity,  and  how  willingly  I  have  injured  myfclf,  to 
right  others."     She  fpoke  with  horror  of  diilionefty 

snd 


'Mrs.  Elizabeth  Rowe.  381; 

raid  fraud,  and  wondered  how  perfons  could  die  v/iih 
any  tranquility,  under  the  leaft  degree  of  fuch  guilt-. 

Her  ind ifference  to  fame  was  very  ren^arkabie.  She 
feemed  even  to  ihun  it,  by  concealing  herfelf,  aimolt 
through  life,  in  folitude.  Nor  did  ihe  praclife  any 
arts  to  pronaote  her  reputation.  She  would  not  evea 
permit  her  name  to  be  prefixed  to  her  works,  except 
in  a  few  inftances  :  and  though  this  occafioned  fome 
of  her  productions  to  be  afcribed  to  other  hands,  it 
had  no  efFecl  upon  her.  When  about  ^o  communi- 
cate to  tlie  world  Friendjhip  in  .Deaih,  (he  fiievved  the 
manufcript  to  but  one  perfon,  on  whofe  fecrecy  Hie 
could  rely  ;  and  after  he  had  by  her  order  copied  it  in 
his  own  hand,  (he  fent  it  to  Dr.  Young,  knov/inghim 
only  by  Iiis  works.  When  the  beauties  cf  the  ftyle 
di(co\'ered  the  author,  and  the  performance  began  to 
be  univerfally  admiced,  fhe  ftill  avoided  owning  it,  at 
far  as  was  conliftent  with  the  ftrideft  truth.  She  e- 
ven  declined  the  honor  due  to  her  memory  after  death  ; 
for  when  flie  felefied  from  her  manufcript  fome  ex- 
crcifes  of  piety,  to  be  publillied  after  her  deceafe,  (lie 
iludioufly  omitted  thofe  parts  which  would  have  dif- 
covcred  her  unexampled  liberality,  and  other  virtues 
■which  peculiarly  conciliate  the  efleem  of  the  world. 
The  fame  modefty  appears  in  the  orders  (he  left  in 
-writing  to  her  fervant,  in  which,  after  having  defired 
that  her  funeral  might  be  by  night,  and  attended  only 
bv  a  fmall  number  of  friends,  fhe  adds,  *'  Charge 
Mr.  Bowdcn  not  to  fay  one  word  of  me  in  the  fermon, 
I  would  lie  in  my  father's  grave,  and  have  no  (lone 
ror  infcription  over  my  vile  duit,  which  I  gladly 
learve  to  corruption  and  oblivion,  till  it  rife  to  a  glo- 
rious immortality.'' 

She  v/as  exemplary  In  the  difcharge  of  relative  du- 
ties. She  loved  the  beft  of  fathers  as  ihe  ought,  and 
repaid  his  uncommon  tendernefs  by  every  expreflion 
of  duty  and  affe6lion.  She  was  often  heard  to  say, 
she  would  rather  die  than  difplcafe  himj  and  v/as  once 
I  i  throv/n 


3S2  Memoirs  0? 

tlirown  into  a  convulfion  by  feeing  him  in  great  dir* 
trefs. 

To  her  hufband,  fhe  manifefted  the  higheft  efteeni 
and  tenderefi:  affedion.  By  the  gentlefi:  manners  flis 
confirmed  the  empire  fhe  had  gained  over  his  heart. 
Jt  was  her  ftudy  to  foften  the  anxieties,  and  heighten 
the  fatisfaclions  of  his  life.  Her  fuperior  capacity 
did  not  tempt  her  to  neglect  the  Iclfer  cares  of  life,  or 
to  alTume  any  thing  inconfiftent  with  the  fubmiflion 
enjoined  by  ChriiVianity.  Mr.  Rowe  had  a  mixture 
of  natural  v/armth  in  his  temper,  which  was  not  al- 
^vays  under  perfect  command.  If  at  any  time  this 
broke  out  into  anger,  it  never  awakened  a  fimilar  paf- 
fion  in  her.  She  rem.ained  miftrefs  of  herfelf,  and 
iludied  by  the  gentled  language  to  reflore  her  huf- 
band's  mind  to  calmefs.  In  other  inflances  flie  en- 
deavored, by  the  foftelt  arts  of  perfuafion,  and  with- 
out the  lead  appearance  of  fuperiority,  to  lead  him  on 
to  that  perfe6lion  of  goodnefs  to  which  with  Chriftian 
'zeal  file  afpired  herfelf.  In  the  long  illnefs  which 
terminated  his  life,  fhe  was  fcarce  a  moment  from 
him.  She  partook  his  ileeplefs  nights,  and  by  every 
tenderncls  and  afliduity,  endeavored  to  foothhis  fevcre 
afiii6lion.  The  m.anner  in  which  fhe  fpent  her  time 
after  his  death,  was  equally  honorable  to  his  memory, 
and  improving  to  herfelf.  Her  tender  and  exalted 
lenfe  of  his  worth  feemed  to  combine  Vv^ith  the  great 
confiderations  of  religion,  to  abftradl  her  mind  from 
every  thing  earthly,  to  render  retirement  dearer  than 
ever,  and  to  engage  her  in  the  moft  diligent  prcparaT 
tion  for  eternity. 

Though  fhe  mourned  the  deaths  of  her  hufband  and 
father  with  all  the  fenfibiiity  of  the  moft  feeling  heart, 
fcer  fubmiflion  to  Providence  was  exemplary  and  en- 
tire. She  breathed  no  criminal  murmurs  againft  the 
will  of  Heaven,  nor  behaved,  in  her  moft  diitreiring 
hours,  unfuitably  to  that  emiiience  of  piety  which  ap- 
■f^eared  in  evcrv  other  part  of  her  life. 

As 


Mrs.  Elizabeth  Rowe.  3^5 

As  a  mlftrefs,  fhe  was  gentle  and  kind,  treatiHg  her 
fervants  with  acondefceniion  and  goodnefs  little  iliort 
of  the  affability  of  a  friend.  If  any  were  ill,  fne 
caufed  the  bed  care  to  be  taken  of  them  :  nor  did  (he" 
think  it  mifbecame  her  to  fit  by  the  bed  of  a  fick  fer- 
vant,  to  read  books  of  piety.  Her  tendernefs  of  hu- 
manity would  not  fufFer  her  to  be  offended  with  (light 
faults':  and  as  flie  never  difmiffed  one  frorn  her  fam- 
ily, fo  few  or  none  of  her  fervants  ever  left  her,  but 
to  change  their  conditior^  by  marriage.  She  repofed' 
a  confidence  in  thofe  whofe  fidelity  Ihe  had  experien- 
ced, which  almoft  bordered  on  excefs. 

She  was  a  warm  and  generous  friend  ;  jufl:,  it  not 
partial,  to  the  merit  of  thofe  whom  (he  loved,  and  moil 
gentle  and  candid  to  their  errors.  She  was  ever  for- 
ward to  do  them  good  ofRces  ;  but  was  moil  of  all 
airiduous  in  attempting  to  infmuate  the  love  of  virtus 
and  religion  into  their  minds. 

That  Ihe  might  not  be  without  opportunity  to  ex- 
ercife  the  divi'ne  fpirit  of  forgivenefs,  Providence 
permitted  her  to  fuftain  the  attacks  of  malice.  \et 
it  could  fcarce  be  learnt  from  her  difcourfe  that  (he 
had  an  enemy  :  nor  was  it  at  all  ufual  for  her  to  hint 
at  any  injury  or  indecency  fhe  met  with;  So  that  it 
was  evident  that  fuch  treatment  left  but  (light  impref- 
fions,  or  that  (he  had  endeavored  to  efface  them  with 
the  happieft  fuccefs. 

Confidering  the  mediocrity  of  her  fortune,  her 
bounty  was  almofi:  unparalleled.  It  was  indeed  lini- 
ited  by  nothing  but  the  utmoft  extent  of  her  power. 
She  devoted  her  whole  income,  bende  what  was  barely 
fu(!icient  for  the  neceiTities  of  life,  to  the  relief  o(  the 
indigent  and  diftreffed.  This  appears  from  a  paffag^ 
in  her  manufcrlpt,  which,  as  it  evinces  a  heart  glowing 
with  love  to  God  and  man,  v/e  are  conHrained  to  in- 
fert  ;  not,  however,  without  rem.arking  that  this  fo- 
lemn  and  benevolent  engagement  of  Mrs.  Rowe  in^ 
volvcd  her  in  fome  perplexities  j  *ind  that,  of  courfc;, 

he? 


3S4  Memoirs  o?. 

her  exam plf3  in  this  inftance  is  not  an  infallible  guicle,, 
nor  ought  it  to  iniluence  pious  minds  to  confine  them-^ 
felves  too  ftridly  on  the  fubje(Sl. 

"  I  confederate,"  Ihe  writes,  **  half  my  yearly  in- 
come to  charitable  ufes.  And  though  by  this,  ac- 
cording, to  human  appearances,  I  have  reduced  my- 
f^]i  to  forac  neceflity,  I  call  all  my  caxe  on  that  gra- 
cious God  to  whom  I  am  devoted,  and  to  whofe  truth 
I  liibfcribe  with  my  hand.  I  atteft  his  faithfulnefs, 
and  bring  in  my  tedimony  tgthe  veracitv  of  his  word. 
I  fet  to  my  feal  that  God  is  true :  and  oh  !  by  the  God  ot 
truth  I  Avear  to  perform  this,  and  beyond  this.  For  if 
thou  wilt  indeed  blefs  me,  and  enlarge  my  coafl,  all 
that  I  have,  beyond  the  bare  convenience  and  necelii- 
ly  of  life,.ihall  furely  be  the  Lord's.  O  grant  meXuf- 
liciency,  that  I  may  abound  in  every  good  work.  O 
Jet  me  be  thy  anelfenger  of  confolalion  to  the  poor  ! 
Here  1  am  :  Lord,  fend  me!  Let  me  have  the  honor 
to  adminifter  to  the  neceflities  of  my  brethren.  I  am 
iivieed  unworthy  to  wipe  the  feet  of  the  leaft  of  the 
icrvants  of  my  Lord,  iriuch  more  unworthy  of  this 
glorious  commiiliOn  ;  and  yet,  O  fend  m.e,  for  thy 
goodnefs  is  free.  Send  whom  thou  wilt  on  embaflies 
to  the  kings  and  rulers  of  the  earth  ;  but  let  me  be  a 
fervant  to  the  fervants  of  my  Lord.  Let  me  admin- 
ijter  confolation  to  the  affilded  members  of  my  exalt- 
cl  and  glorious  Redeemer.  Let  this  be  my  lot,  and 
-  ^";e  the  glories  of  the  world  to  the  vvind." 

In  pnrfuance  of  th.is  facred  vow,  which,  as  (heelfe- 
where  declares,  **  was  not  made  in  an  hour  of  fear 
anci  diftrefs,  but  in  the  joy  and  gratitude  of  her  foul," 
liie  not  only  avoided  all  iupertluous  expenfe  in  her 
«ii'efs  and  mode  of  living,  but  through  an  excefs  ot" 
benevolence,  (if  excefs  is  poffible,  in  fuch  a  divine 
difpofition)  ihe  denied  herfelf  what  many  would  con- 
iider  as  neceflaries  of  life. 

Indigence 


Mrs.  Elizabeth  P.ovve.  -§5, 

Indigence  and  mifery  were  a  fufficient  recommend- 
ation to  her  compaffion  :  but  fhc  fliewed  a  peciiliai:- 
readinefs  to  alleviate  the  affli6lions  of  perfons  of  merit 
and  virtue:  nor  did  any  Ibch  appeal  to  lier  charity 
without  fuccefs.  The  firft  time  flie  accepted  an  ac- 
knowledgment from  the  book  feller  for  any  of  her 
works,  fhe  beftowed  the  whole  fum  on  a  dillrefie4 
family  ;  and  there  is  reafon  to  believe  fhe  made  a  fim- 
ilar  application  of  all  the  money  Ihe  ever  received  iii- 
this  way.  Once,  when  fhe  had  not  a  fum  large  e- 
rjouglu|p  fupply  the  neceffities  of  another  family,  flie 
fold  a  pece  of  plate  for  the  purpofe.  It  was  her  cuf- 
tom,  on  going  abroad,  to  furnilh  herfelf  with  pieces 
of  money  of  difFerent  value,  that  flie  might  diilribute 
them  according  to  the  neceffities  of  tliofe  who  might* 
fall  in  her  way.  During  her  refjdence  in  the  country^ 
fkefent  large  fums  to  London  and  other  diflant  parts. 
Contributing  to  fome  defigns  of  charity  which  ilie  did 
not  in  all  refpecls  approve,  ihe  obferved  it  was  fit 
fometimes  to  give  for  the  credit  of  religion,  that  its 
profelTors  might  not  be  charged  with  covetoufnefs  ;  a 
vice  fo  odious  to  her,  that  fcarce  any  fpecies  of  immo- 
rality could  more  effectually  exclude  a  perfon  from  her 
friendfnip.  She  never  grudged  any  money,  but  what 
was  expended  for  herfelf;  for  (lie  confidered  how  maicli 
it  would  buy  for  the  poor.  Befide  the  fums  which 
file  gave  av/ay, and  her diftributions of  pracfical  books, 
file  freqiiently  employed  her  ov/n  hands  in  making 
garments  of  various  kinds  for  the  poor  :  a  charity 
which  the  peculiarly  exercifed  toward  certain  foreign- 
ers driven  into  England  by  the  rage  of  v/ar.  Though 
fhe  was  feldora  known  to  ihed  tears  for  her  private 
affliclions,  it  was  common  for  her  to  weep  over  the  dif— 
trelfes  of  others.  She  not  only  fent  her  fervants  to  the 
poor,  when  they  were  fick,  to  inquire  into  their  wants,- 
but  often  vlfitcd  them  in  perfon  ;  snd  this,  when  their- 
lioufcs  feemed  fcarce  fit  forTier  to  enter,  and  e^en  when- 
r:ir  dii'brders  were  very  malignant  and  contagious.- 
I  I  X  A  favoi4t.-- 


^36  IslEUOllS    07 

A  iavovite  charity  with  her  was  caiifing  children  to 
be  taught  to  read  and  work.  She  fiirnifhed  them  with 
clothes,  as  well  as  bibles,  and  other  necelFary  books 
cf  inftrucilioh.  This  fne  did  not  only  at  Frome,  but 
2t  a  neighboring  village,  where  part  of  her  eflate  lay. 
When  Ihe  met;  in  the  ftreets,  with  children  of  prorn- 
iiing  countenances  who  were  perfedly  unknown  to 
her>  if  on  inquiry  flie  found  that  through  the  pover- 
ty of  their  parents  they  were  not  put  to  fchcol,  [he  ad- 
ded them  to  the  number  of  thofc  who  were  taught  at 
her  ov/n  expenfe.  vShe  condef'cendcd  herfeMe  in- 
ilru6tthem  in  the  plain  and  moft  eiicntial  principles 
and  duties  of  religion  :  and  the  grief  flie  felt  when  a- 
ry  of  them  difappointed  her  hopes,  was  correfpon- 
dent  with  the  lively  fatisfaclion  Iheenjoy.ed  when  her 
defigns  appeared  to  be  fucceeded.  She  aifo  contribu- 
ted to  a  more  public  charitable  inftitution  of  this  kind 
zt  Frome,  though,  according  to  the  cuflom  of  fuch 
fchools,  al.l  who  were  educated  in  it  were  obliged  to 
v/orfhip  God  in  that  form  from  which  fhe  took  the 
liberty  to  diilent.  Indeed,  fo  far  were  her  charities 
from  being  confined  to  thole  of  her  own  denomination 
or  fentiments,  that  they  were  often  largely  fiiared  by 
perfons  whofe  religious  opim'ons  (lie  confidered  of  the 
inoll:  dangerous  tendency.  Nor  was  her  beneficence 
limited  to  ihofev/ho  were  literacy  poor.  She  frequent- 
ly remarked,  that  it  was  one  of  the  greateft  of  benefits, 
to  free  perfons  from  the  anxieties  attending  a  narrov/ 
fortune.  In  purfuance  of  this  generous  fentiment, , 
ihe  often  made  large  prefents  to  thofe  who  were  not 
in  indigence  \  endeavoring  while  fae  **  relieved  their 
wants,"  to  **  fpare  their  bluflies."  She  eminently 
pofft'ired  the  art  of  giving;  for  flie  heightened  every 
favor  by  the  jr.anner  in  which  ihe  conferred  it.  In- 
<leed  to  the  poor,  flie  feemed  a  miniftering  angel. 
Her  goodnefs  prevented  their  requells  ;  and  fmiles, 
with  the  gentleft,  kindefi.  language,  always  accom- 
panied her  fubllantial  ads  of  mercy.     By  allu ranees 

of 


Mrs.  Elizabeth  Roave,  35.7 

of  relief,  fhe  encouraged  them  to  difclofe  all  their 
wants;  and  treated  them  with  the  fweetnefs  of  a 
friend,  rather  than  the  fuperiority  of  a  benefadrefs. 
Nor  was  (he  ready  to  refent  the  appearance  of  ingrat- 
itude in  her  dependants.  Overhearing  once  feme  un- 
thankful poor,  who  fat  down  with  her  fervants,  mur- 
mur at  their  food,  though  fhe  had  ufed  the  fame  her- 
ftlf,  (he  only  made  this  gentle  remark,  that  they  ex- 
pelled fomething  better  than  ordinary,  at  her  table. 
Nor  did  ihc  omit  the  ufua!  alms  at  their  departure. 

It  is  aiionifliing  that  the'moderate^ftate  of  Mrs. 
Rowe  could  fupply  fuch  various  and  extenfive  bene- 
factions. She  Avas  often  furprifed  at  it  hcrfelf  ;  and 
on  one  cccafion  could  not  help  exprefling  her  v/onder 
to  an.  intimate  friend,  though  flie  was  ordinarily  very 
careful  to  conceal  her  charities, 

Mrs.  Rovv'e's  writings  give  a  faithful  pi6lure  of 
her  foul.  Her  profound  humility,  her  ardent  love  to 
God,  her  faith  in  his  promifes,  and  dependance  on 
his  providence,  her  love  tb  his  law,  and  zeal  for  his 
glory,  flrikingly  appear  in  her  works.  The  follow- 
ing pafTages  from  her  mianufcripts  b^r  additional  tef- 
timony  to  the  truth  and  vigor  of  her  piety,  and  the 
communion  of  her  foul  with  its  God. 

Slie  devoted  herfeif  to  the  fervice  of  Heaven  in  a 
folemn  covenant  which  is  Inferted  among  her  devout 
Exercife^  of  heart', 

A  covenant  ivith  God. 

Incomprehenfible  Being  !  who  fearchea  the  hearts, 
and  trieft  the  reins  of  the  children  of  men  :  thou  know- 
efl  my  fmcerity,  and  my  thoughts  are  all  unveiled  to 
thee.  I  am  furrocnded  with  thine  immenfity.  Thou 
art  a  prefent,  though  invifible  v/itnefs  of  the  folemn 
affair  in  which  I  am  now  engaged.  I  am  now  ta- 
king hold  of  thy  Jirength  that  I  may  make  peace  zviih 
ikee,  and  enrering  into  articles  with  the  Almight 
God.    Thefe  are  the  h^ppy  days  long  fince  predi6lec, 

when 


388  Memoirs  of 

■w\\en'QneJhaUfay^IamtheLorcrs,  and  another Jlmll 
call  himfelfby  the  yiame  of  Ifraeh  ^w^  another  jhall  juh^ 
Jcrihe  with  his  hand  to  the  Lord  :  and  I  will  be  their 
Gody  and  they  pall  be  my  people,  faith  the  Lord  ]Q\iO^ 
vah. 

With  the  moll:  thankful  fincerity  I  take  hold  on 
this  covenant,  as  it  is  more  fully  m.anifefted  and  ex- 
plained in  the  gofpel  by  Jefus  Chrifl:,and,  humbly  ac- 
cepting thy  propofals,  I  bind  myfelf  to  thee  by  a  fa- 
credarid  everlaiting  obligationo  By  a  free  and  delib- 
erate adion,  I  do  here  ratify  the  articles  which  were 
made  for  me  in  baptifm  into  the  name  of  the  Father, 
the  Son,  and  the  Holy  Ghoft.  I  religioufly  devote 
myfelf  to  thy  fervice,  and  entirely  fubmit  to  thy  con- 
du61:.  I  renounce  the  glories  and  vanities  of  the 
world,  and  choofe  thee  as  my  happinefs,  my  fupreme 
felicity,  and  everlailing  portion.  I  make  no  article 
with  thee  for  any  thing  befides.  Deny  or  give  me 
what  thou  wilt,  I- will  never  repine  while  my  prin- 
cipal treafure  is  fure.  This  is  my  deliberate,  my  free-' 
and  fincere  determiination  ;  a  determination  which  by 
thy  grace  I  will  never  retradl. 

O  thou  by  whofe  power  alone  I  .{hall  be  able  to 
Hand,  put  thy  fear  in  my  heart  that  I  may  never  depart- 
from  thee  !  Let  not  the  world  with  all  its  flatteries, 
nor  death  nor  hell  with  all  their  terrors,  force  me  to 
violate  this  facred  vow.  O  let  me  never  live  to  a- 
bandon  thee,  nor  draw  the  impious  breath  tharwouicl^ 
deny  thee  ! 

And  now  let  furrounding  angels  witneft  for  me j. 
that  I  folemnly  devote  all  the  powers  and  faculties  of 
mv  foul  to  thy  fervice :  and  when  I  prefumptuoufly 
emplov  any  of  the  advantages  thou  hail  given  me  to 
tfiv'dii'honor,  let  them  tdtiiy  againit  me,  and  let  my 
own  w^ords  condemn  me.  Elizabeth  Rowe. 

Thus  have  1  fubfcribed  to  thy  gracious  propofals, 
and  engaged  mvfelf  to  be  the  Lord's.  And  now  let- 
the  malice  of  men,:and  the  rage  of  devils  combine  a- 

gainft 


Mrs.  Elizabeth  Rowe,  389 

gainft  me,  I  can  defy  all  their  ftratagems  ;  for  God 
himfelf  is  become  my  Friend, Jefus  is  ray  all-fufficient 
Savior,  and  the  Spirit  of  God,  I  truil,  will  be  my 
SanCtifier  and  my  Comforter. 

0  happyday  !  tranfporting  moment  !  the  brighteft 
period  of  my  life  1  heaven,  v/ith  all  its  light,  fm.ilcs 
upon  me.  What  glorious  mortal  can  now  excite  my 
envy  ?  What  fcene  to  tempt  my  ambition  can  the 
whole  creation  difplay  r  Let  glory  call  me  with  her 
exalted  voice  ;  let  pleafure  with  a  fofter  eloquence 
allure  me  ;  the  world  in  all  its  fplendor  appears  but 
a  trifle,  while  the  infinite  God  is  my  portion.  He  is 
mine  by  as  fure  a  title  as  eternal  veracity  can  confer. 
The  right  is  unqucftionable  ;  the  conveyance  unal- 
terable. The  mountains  mall  be  removed,  and  the 
hills  dilTolved,  before  the  everlafting  obligation  fhali 
be  cancelled. 

**  In  this  covenanting  whh  God,"  fays  the  writer 
of  her  life,  *'  Mrs.  Rowe  imitated  the  example  of  her 
pious  mother,  to  whofe  facrecl  engagement  oi  this 
kind  fhe  made  the  following  addition,  which  evident-^ 
iy  appears  by  the  hand  to  have  been  written  in  her 
younger  years  :" 

My  God,  and  my  father's  God,  who  keepefl  cov- 
enant and  mercy  to  a  thoufand  generations  ;  I  call 
thee  to  witnefs  that  with  all  the  fincerity  of  my  foul, 
I  confent  to  this  covenant,  and  fiand  to  the  folemn 
dedicatio::  m.ade  of  me  in  baptifm  ;  and  to  this 

1  God's  high  name  my  awful  wiinefs  make  : 

and  thus  with  the  utmoil  willingnefs  and  joy,  I  fub- 
fcribe  with  my  hand  to  the  Lord.  £-  S//7^v7-. 

J?7d  beneath y  in  the  fame  paper  Jke  writes  thus  : 

"Renewed  Sept.  1728.  When  I  am  (fanding  before 
tlie  Judge  of  all  the  earth,  to  be  fentenced  for  all  eter- 
nity, let  this  contraa  be  an  evidence  that  I  renounce 
the  world,  and  take  the  fuprems  God  for  my  portion 
and  happinefs,  ^^^ 


3^0- 


Memoirs  of 


Her  manufcript  affords  alfo  the  following  retiRwcif 
of  this  covenant,  which,  though  long,  is  too  valuable 
to  be  omitted,  efpecially  as  it  Ihevvs  the  interior  (io 
to  fpeak)  of  Mrs.  Rowe's  foul* 

Let  me  renew  my  vows,  O  God,  to  thee.  Let  mc 
repeat  the  facred  obligation.  Let  me,  if  pofliblc 
make  my  ties  more  ftrong— more  entirely  devote  my- 
felf  to  thee.  With  what  pleafure  do  I  refie6l  on  the 
obligations,  I  am  under^tobe  thine  !  I  blefs  the 
facred  engagement,  and  would  not  he  free  for  ten 
thoufand  worlds.  I  never  knew  a  happy  moment 
till  I  was  thine.  All  my  joys  are  dated  from  that 
bleiTed  period.  Thence  they  took  their  fpring,  and- 
thence  they  will  for  everfiow. 

O  therefore  let  me  joyfully  renew  my  vows  to  thee. 
Let  angels  in{lru6l  me  how  to  confirm  them.  Let 
them  teach  me  their  forms,  and  give  me  their  flames. 
Let  all  be  noble,  and  pathetic,  and  folemn,  as  their 
immortal  vows.  I  would  bind  niyfelf  beyond  the  ties 
that  rnortals  know.  But  F  cannot  fpeak  with  the 
ardor  I  wiQi.  I  cannot  find  words  to  exprefs  the  ve- 
hemence of  my  foul.  But  O  thou  who  canft  under- 
ftand  thofe  defires  which  language  fails  me  to  utter, 
accept  the  fincerity  of  my  heart  ;  regard  and  accept 
my  vows  ;  and  O  let  them  be  confirmed  for  ever  ! 

Attend,  ye  angels  I  let  heaven  and  earth  hear  me  ! 
let  the  molt  high  God,  the  podeiTor  of  heaven  and 
earth,  hiiiiielf  be  my  witnefs  !  for  eve;i  to  him  I 
dare  appeal,  from  whom  no  difguife  can  veil  my 
thoughts.  Even  thy  facred  name  I  dare  atteft,  whofe 
favor  is  my  only  hope,  and  whofe  frown  is  the  only 
thing  I  can  fear.  Yet  my  words  are  not  the  effect 
of  terror 'and  diftrefs,  but  of  reafon  and  love.  No 
action  of  my  life  was  ever  more  deliberate  and  volim- 
tary.  My  foul  gives  its  entire  afient,  and  offers  up 
all  its  powers.  I  make  no  referve.  Thou  haft  my 
^^hole,  my  undivided  heart. 

G  thou- 


Mrs.  Elizabeth  Rowe.  -391 

O  thou  that  looked:  down  from  the  exaltations  of 
^hy  Majefty,  that  rideft  upon  the  heavens  in  thine 
Excellency,  and  thence  doft  not  difdain  to  be  a  FathcL* 
to  the  fatherlefs,  and  the  Judge  of  the  widow  :  I 
come  to  thee  deftitute,  forlorn,  abandoned  of  every 
name  of  joy  or  confidence  on  earths  I  have  found 
all  the  fpecious  titles  and  relations  among  men  to  be 
vanity  and  a  lie  :  but  I  rejoice  in  the  convidion  :  I 
blefs  the  happy  circumflance  that  has  thrown  a  re- 
proach on  all  human  trull:,  that  has  broken  my  en- 
gagements with  every  thing  below,  and  forced  mc 
iricndlcfs  and  defencelefs  to  fiy  to  thee.  O  receive 
me  with  the  affection  of  a  lAiher  :  take  me  into  thy 
tendered  care  and  protcftion  !  O  remember  thy  cove- 
nant with  my  pious  ancellors  to  be  a  God  to  them^ 
and  their  feed  after  them,  by  an  everlafting  covenant  I 
Thy  compaflions  exceed  thcrfe  of  the  tendereft  rela- 
tion on  earth.  Thou  doll:  delight  to  exercife  loving- 
kindnefs  and  truth  in  the  earth.  Thou  art  the  God 
of  all  grace  and  confolation.  Thefe  are  thy  free, 
thy  natural  operations.  Fury  is  not  in  thee.  Thy 
name,  thy  boafted  name  is  Love  :  and  thou  doft  never 
deviate  from  its  gentle  di£l:ates.  It  is  the  beginning 
and  end  of  all  thy  works  ;  the  glorious  end  thou  hadit 
from  all  eternity  in  view.  Thou  doft  not  withdrav/ 
thine  eyes  from  this  defign^  b(u  haft  fet  thy  heart  upon 
i-t  from  everlafting  to  everlalfing.  Goodnefs  and 
companion  for  ever  flow  from  thee.  Thou  canft  not 
reftrain  thofe  glorious  emanations.  They  will  and 
RTult  for  ever  ftream  from  thee,  the  infinite  abyfs,  the 
faring  of  goodnefs,  the  fum,  the  plenitude  of  joy,  its 
never-failing  focrce. 

Oh,  thou  haft  purchafed  my  foul  with  thy  own 
blood  :  before  God  and  angels,  I  put  it  into  thy  cuf- 
tody  !  With  thee  I  folemniy  depofitethe  facred  pledge. 
Into  thy  hand  I  commit  the  precious  treafure.     It  is 


Into  thy  hand  I  commit  the  pi 
my  all,  my  very  being.  O  foj 
and  fecure  it  from  ihe  ftratagt 


my  all,  my  very  being.  O  form  it  after  thy  pleafure, 
it  from  ihe  ftratagems  of  hell !  I  am  fur- 

roLUKlwd 


'392  Memoirs  op 

rounded  with  dangers,  and  a  tboufand  fnares  at- 
tend  me.  J  have  but  one  call:  for  eternity.  Look 
with  eyes  of  pity  on  my  impotence  and  diftrefs.  I  fly 
to  thee:  let  me  find  a  hidjng-place  from  the  wind, 
and  a  covert  from  the  tempelt.  ^ 

I  am  not,  I  cannot  be  my  own  keeper.  Flefh  and 
blood  are  too  weak  to  ftruggie  v>ith  principalities 
and  powers,  and  the  rulersof  dark  lefs  in  high  places. 
The  combination  is  too  (Irong  for  unaffiiled  nature  to 
conquer.  Thou  knoweft  my  flrengih  is  weaknefs,  my 
v/ifdom  folly,  my  natural  light  all  darknefs.  I  know- 
not  the  next  ftep  before  me,  and  if  I  ftumble,  it  will 
bring  reproach  on  thy  holy  v/ays, 

I  am  of  the  Lord's  fide.  I  am  in  league  with  thee 
againft  the  confederacy  of  hell.  I  liil  myfelf  under 
thy  banners,  to  oppofe  the  klngdoin  of  darknefs.  Give 
me  flrength  and  wifdom  to  encounter  all  oppofition. 
Let  me  never  be  left  to  my  own  condud,  or  diflionor 
thy  caufe  by  any  v/eaknefs  or  inadvertency.  O  thou 
who  doft  not  llumber  nor  deep,  watch  my  goings,  and 
let  none  of  my  footftcps  flide  !  O  fountain  of  love  and 
grace,  let  me  feel  thy  prefent  influence.  There  is  no 
relation  in  all  nature  fo  near,  as  that  between  God 
and  a  virtuous  mind  :  and  wilt  thou  not  adorn  it  with 
thofe  graces  which  are  capable  of  being  improved  for 
•ever  ? 

In  the  name  of  the  Lord  God  of  hofis,  the  God  of 
the  armies  of  Ifraeljlet  me  conquer  the  principalities 
and  powers  of  darknefs.  I  have  taken  thy  v.'ord  for 
my  defence.  I  have  fled  to  the  name  of  the  Lord  for 
fafety.  Let  me  rejoice,  let  me  trium.ph  in  that  fanc- 
tuary,  nor  know  a  thought  of  diffidence  or  fear.  Let 
-me  hope  againft  hope,  believe  above  belief,  with  con- 
iidence  worthy  of  that  power  on  which  I  trufl:,  and 
-of  that  veracity  which  is  engaged  to  prote6l  me.  Be 
the  powers  of  hell  confounded, vv'hile  i  makemyboaft 
in  the  Lord,  and  rejoice  in  thy  falvation. 

I  can; 


Mrs.  Elizabeth  RowE,  393 

I  can,  I  muH:,  I  dare  fet  to  my  feal,  that  God  is 
true.  1  need  not  fcruple  to  affirm  what  thou  hail:  at- 
tefted.  I  may  without  hefiiation  give  my  affent  to  the 
word  of  the  living  God.  Let  not  ray  tootfteps  flide ; 
keep  me  in  the  ways  of  life  and  falvation  ;  dire6l  ev- 
ery motion,  for  thou  art  m.y  only  Counfellor.  Leave 
lUG  not  to  choofe  for  myfeU".  Give  me  no  advantage 
but  wiiat  I  may  employ  for  thy  glory.  Cancel  every 
prayer  that  has  not  been  agreeable  to  thy  will.  I  re- 
tra6l  every  petition  whofe  fuccefs  will  not  centre  In 
thine  intereft.  It  is  thee,  and  not  myfelf,  that  I  would 
honor.  It  is  thee  I  would  live  and  die  for.  Make 
thy  own  terms,  let  them  be  what  they  will,  I  take  thee 
for  my  only  portion  for  this  life,  and  to  all  eternity, 
and  with  full  confent  I  fubfcribe  with  my  hand  to  the 
Lord.  E.  RowE. 

SeJ)t.  II,  1725.   (Her  hii-th-day.) 

This  excellent  woman  ufcd  fecret  prayer  three 
times  a  day.  She  often  obferved  that  "  vre  ought  to 
confecrate  our  brighteft  hours  to  the  fervice  of  heav- 
en ;"  and  agreeably  to  this  jiid  fentiment,  gave  thofe 
parts  of  the  day  to  facred  retirement,  in  which  ilie 
fuppofed  her  mental  powers  were  mofl  free  and  ac- 
tive. But  her  devotions  v/ere  rather  frequent,  than 
fo  protracled  as  to  fatigue  andexhaufl:  the  fpirits. 

She  had  a  high  veneration  for  the  fabbath,  which  flie 
confecrated  wholly  to  God  and  religion,  and  for  which 
fhe  prepared  by  fpending  the  preceding  day  in  retired 
devotion.  No  flight  indifpofition,  nor  fcverity  of 
w^eather  detained  her  from  the  houfe  of  God  \  and 
while  there,  her  attention  and  reverence  manifeded 
an  unufual  corapofure  and  elevation  of  foul.  In  im- 
itation of  the  Savior's  example  of  doing  good  on  the 
fabbath,  (he  entertained  a  number  of  pcox  people  at 
h.cr  hqufe  on  that  day.  For  the  facramental  Supper, 
Ihe  had  a  peculiar  afcdion  and  reverence. 

As  Oie  had  an  inexpreinble  love  for  the  holy  Scrip- 
tures, (he  alfiduoufiy  read  them,  efpecially  the  New 
K  k  Te (lament. 


394 


Memoirs  ov 


Tedament,  the  Pfalms,  and  thofe  parts  of  the  prophe- 
cies which  relate  to  the  Savior.  For  fome  time  be-^ 
fore  her  death,  the  read  fcarce  any  thing  bcfide  thefe 
facred  books,  and  practical  treatifes  on  religious  fub- 
jefts. 

Her  zeal  in  the  caufe  of  religion  was  fervent  be-. 
Yond  common  example.  As  fhe  could  not  refrain  her 
tears  of  tranfport  while  witnefllng  any  eminent  in- 
ilance  of  piety,  fo  its  too  general  decline  rent  her  very 
foul.  She  faw  with  inexprelhble  grief  the  fatal  ad- 
vances of  infidelity,  and  fpoke  witii  the  higheft  efleeni 
imd  gratitude  of  thofe  excellent  perfons  who  defended 
Chrrftianity  by  their  learned  writings,  and  venerated 
them  as  benefadors  to  mankind. 

She  feemed  peculiarly  formed  for  fublime  and  ar- 
<lent  piety.  Yet  Ihe  did  not  fct  an  extreme  value  oa 
ftrong  emotions  and  fervors  in  religion  :  and  her  de- 
%otion  was  joined  with  the  mod  exemplary  focial 
\irtue.  She  afFecled  no  Angularity,  no  appearance  of 
feverity  :  nor  cenfured  tliofe  who  fell  fhort  of  the 
flri6inefs  to  which  fhe  obliged  herfelf.  Far  from  im- 
pofing  her  own  method  or  frequency  of  devotion  on 
others  for  whofe  circumflanccs  or  call  of  mind  they 
would  be  lefs  proper,  ilie  did  not  even  mention  iheni 
t<3  her  moft  intimate  friends. 

She  poffelied  a  large  portion  of  ferenity  and  cheer- 
ful nefs.  Thefe  difpofitions,  fo  ornamental  to  true 
piety,  continued  with  her  to  her  laft  moments  :  fo 
iiiat  excepting  fome  intervals  of  generous  grief  oc- 
ca Honed  by  her  devout  or  fympathetic  affedions,  her 
life  feemed  not  only  a  conftant  calm,  but  a  perpetual 
fundi  ine. 

Her  friendfhips  were  founded  on  virtue,  though 
not  on  a  perfc6l:  agreement  in  thofe  points  which 
fometimes  divide  ChrifUans.  She  was  favored  with 
the  acquaintance  aild  edeern  of  feveral  ladies  of  high 
rank,  as  well  as  of  many  didinguidied  charaaers  of 
the  other  fex,  among  whom  were  the  Earl  of  Orrery, 
•     ^  Bidiop 


Mrs.  Elizabeth  Rowe, 


3-95 


Bifhop  Ken,  Sir  Richard  Blackmore,  Dr.  Watts  and 
Mr.  Grove.  With  another  ornament  of  her  age. 
Die  was  on  terms  of  peculiar  intimacy.  "  It  gives 
ime  great  pleafure,"  fays  her  biographer  and  brother- 
in-law,  *^  that  I  can  conclude  the  chara6ler  of  a  lady 
"whofe  memory  ought  to  be  moft  dear  to  me,  with  this 
teftimony  to  her  virtue  and  merit,  that  her  life  was 
honored  with  the  friendfhip,  and  her  death  lamented 
with  the  tears,  of  the  Coimtefs  of  Hertford." 

A  large  colleflion  of  poems  in  honor  of  Mrs. 
Rowe,  by  feveral  hands,  is  prefixed  to  her  mifcella- 
neous  works.  We  felect  the  following,  and  thus 
clofe  the  account  of  her  inftru6live  life. 

On  the  Death  of  Mrs.  Rov/e. 

Accept^  illujlr'ioiis  /hade  I  theje  artJefs  lays 
The  invje  a  tribute  to  thy  mem' ry  pays  : 
Thy  Jofs,  to  no  one  private  grief  confind. 
Demands  the  gen  ral  Jorroiv  of  mankind* 

Oft  did  intrigue  its  guilty  arts  unite 
To  blacken  the  records  of  fetnale  wit. 
The  tuneful  fong  lofi  ev'ry  modeft  grace ^ 
And  laivlefs  freedoms  triumphed  in  their  place c 
The  mufe y  for  vices  not  her  own  accuj'd. 
With  blujhes  viezud  her  fac red  gifts  abuf'd  : 
Th of e  gifts  for  nobler  purpofes  dejignd. 
To  raife  the  thought s,  and  moral i-ze  the  mind^ 
The  chajre  delights  of  virtue  tojnfpire^ 
And  warm  the  boforn  iyith'»f^raphk  fiiy^^-'    ■ 
Sublime  the  pafjions,  'lend  denjotion  ibings,  * 
And  celebrate  the  RiRSS"  great  cajj^^  of  thi'ngs,.  ^ 

Thefe  glorious  tajl^  y:er\  J^b'ilpmik'^'/^r/,  ''  ' 
Who  charms  the  fancy,  and  who'niends  the  heart. 

...      -        In 

'*  It  is  not  certain  whether  'Mri.^ 'Row/ s'.  poetical 
name,  Philomela,  by  which  fhe  was  early  known,  was 
adopted  by  herfelf,  or  beflowed  in  compliment  by  her 
friends.     The  latter  is  more  probable* 


39^  Memoirs  of  ^c, 

1^7  her  was  ev'ry  bright  perfeaion  join' d. 

Whatever  adorns  or  dignifies  the  mind: 

Hers  ev'ry  happy  elegance  of  thought y 

Refindhy  virtue,  as  by  genius  wrought. 

Each  low-born  care  her  powerful frrains  controL 

And  luake  the  nobler  paffions  cf  the  foul. 

JVhen  to  the  vocal  grove,  or  winding  Jheam, 

She  hymn'd  th'  Almighty  Author  cf  its  frame, 

Tranfported echoes  bore  the  founds  along , 

Ayjd  all  creation  lift  end  to  the  fong; 

Bold,  as  when  raptur'd  feraphs  firike  the  lyre. 

Chajle,  as  the  vefiaVs  confecrated fire. 

Softy  as  the  balmy  airs  that  gently  play 

In  the  calm  funfet  of  a  vernal  day^ 

Sublime  as  virtue,  elegant  as  wit. 

Is  fancy  various,  and  as  beauty  fweet. 

Applauding  angels  with  attention  hung 

To  learn  the  heav'niy  accents  from  her  tongue  - 

They  tn  the  midnight  hour  beheld  her  rife 

Beyond  the  verge  of  thefe  inferior  Jlies, 

fVhere  rp.pt  tn  joys  to  vulgar  minds  unknown, 

^he  felt  afiajne  extatic  as  their  oivn. 

^O  while  diflinguijh'd  in  the  realms  above, 

jj:e  hhfsful  feats  of  harmony  and  love, 

Tfjy  happy  fpiritjsins  the  heav'nly  throng. 

Glows  with  their  tranfports,  and  partakes  their  fong, 

Jrix'd^  on  my  Joulfiall  thy  example  grow, 

.And  be  my  genius,  and  my  guide  below  I 

Tn  this;  r  II  point  my  firfi  and  noble  ft.  views. 

Thy  fmlefs  verfejhail  regiUat^^  niy  tnufe. 

And  O  forgive,  [though  faint  the  trajifcHpt  be. 

That  \c^pies  cui]jqrLg\nai<M^U^^e.^  \    \ 

My  highefiprXdt,.  ijiy  hefl' atiahp-<for  fame. 

That  joins  my  own  to  Philomela's  name. 

UuzALLTU  Carter, 


COLUMBIA  UNIVERSITY  LIBRARIES 


d06810oV28 


"^r-i-.s. 


G-35 


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